Season turning on my domain

This photo sequence documents a few days at the end of October, and serves as a sequel to “Autumn falls at home.” It also marks the six months I’ve been engaged with this pandemic project, and revisits one of my very first “photo-walks.” It also continues my recent mycological obsession, which extends to reading and viewing (see conclusion of this recent roundup).

October around here goes from leafing peeping to leaf raking and then to a first taste of snow cover, so take a couple more walks with me before winter arrives for real. As always, click on upper left photo to initiate sequence.

Just as the dogwood outside the back door is the longest-flowering tree in the spring, it offers the last splash of color in the fall.

When most other vegetation is dry and withered.

And the many colors of the yard are muted.

Down at the stream behind the house, the water level is midway between spring’s flood and summer’s drought.

But here’s something new!

Take a closer look at this marvelous fungus!

I’m guessing that this is called an oyster mushroom.

It’s definitely hard at work decomposing this tree.

Back up and out the driveway, we check in on one of our signature views.

And back at the house beyond the marsh.

Just two days later, the view out the back door is quite different.

And where the deck was recently covered in fallen leaves, it’s now covered in new-fallen snow.

The yard in a liminal state.

As we head off again, this time around the north side of the house.

And over to the horse trail.

Where the light is ever-changing.

And the stream is once again visible down through the bare trees.

Where copper leaves are dusted in white.

Here you can see the fence line we follow down to the stream.

Which flows between coming and going seasons.

Sugared twigs network over the fallen leaves.

With a tiny dab of bright red dangling.

The oyster mushrooms survive the snow intact.

Looking more and more like their name.

Back up to the view from the horse trail.

And look — there’s one galloping by.

And another standing where we come round the turn of the driveway.

Out again to the view of the house beyond the marsh.

Where the next day’s sun has melted the snow, as the season wavers in the balance.