The particular beauty of fall in the high desert was an unexpected thrill on my roadtrip from Oregon to Southern California in early November.
When I visit my parents on Whidbey Island, I like to spend as much time as possible on the beach or where there is a view of the saltwater. But I also want to spend time with my stepdad, and what he loves to do is walk forest trails.
My love for cottonwoods has grown steadily over the last few years, especially in the spring when they smell so pungent and the fall when they splash yellow along the canyon bottoms. And now, I must confess, a movie — and a Western, at that — has inspired me to explore the beauty and poetry in winter cottonwoods….
Out West, in the land of conifers, we don’t have the color spectacle that blesses New England this time of year. But our few wild deciduous shrubs and trees do add some lovely accents to our evergreen forests and browning grasslands (…)
It’s that time of year again, when my taste buds give up on peaches and berries and begin longing for crunchy pears and apples (…)