By James McGuire
Contributing columnist
Season-wise, I really like where we’re at now. To my mind, these mid-weeks of autumn are some of the year’s finest. Fall’s very best.
Crisp, cool weather. Chill mornings, often arriving with wisps of fog along the river; sometimes a sparkling glaze of frost whitens the grass.
It’s a wealth of glorious days, many filled with bright sun pouring from an azure sky. Others are moody, damp, and dim, with dark clouds scudding across the low, goose-gray ceiling that stretches just above the treetops.
Each has its own demeanor and energy, and I honestly enjoy being afield regardless of the weather.
The turning leaves are now reaching their multi-hued peak—as bright and colorful as they’re going to get this time around. Crimson reds. Fiery oranges. Vivid yellows. Plus shades of mahogany, russet, tan bronze, gold, lemon, saffron, pink, purple, maroon, burgundy, amethyst, and ruby—along with a hundred other colors which have no name but are just as lovely and distinctive.
Yet their time is fleeting and limited to mercies of weather.
Any errant breeze sends a king’s ransom of these loosened leafy treasures sailing about like confetti. Their swirling colors often fill the air, and a woodland pathway leading through a grove of maples can quickly become carpeted ankle-deep and resemble that yellow brick road leading to Oz.
All too soon, October’s leaves will be down, heaped in loose piles and crunching underfoot. They rattle sharply in the gusts as they quickly turn a leathery brown.
Yet even amidst their wilt and fading, I find pleasures and delights.
Everywhere you look there’s something to see—a new view, a compelling corner to explore.
It’s a landscape in the midst of seasonal transition; a wonder time full to overflowing with possibilities and demands that require a boots-on-the-ground investigation.
How do you choose between fishing, hunting, foraging, or simply tramping about in the woods and fields like a footloose gypsy, with no particular goal or purpose?
Alas, the one thing I do know is there’s never enough time! Those rare and delightful days on the autumn calendar keep checking themselves off, clicking away one after another into history—gone forever.
I would gladly trade a month during the middle of summer for a couple of additional weeks stretched between mid-October and mid-November.
A few morning ago I had to get routine blood work done and took Daisy the dog along for the ride to the lab.
Per orders, I’d fasted since supper the evening before. No problem, since I often skip breakfast. But being deprived of my morning coffee was proving serious—and I was already starting to have visions involving a steaming mug of strong, moka-pot brew!
Thankfully, the lab’s staff were quick and efficient. Within minutes I’d been jabbed, filled their needed vials, and kicked loose, free to rejoin Daisy in the car.
We promptly hightailed it homeward….and made it as far as the bridge crossing the Great Miami. I slowed at the span’s midpoint and looked upstream.
The river and its autumnal-clad banks were mesmerizing—a bewitching corridor of dancing water and painted leaves!
My priorities changed in an instant. I forgot all about needing food and a caffeine fix!
There was a small parking area near the end of the bridge, with adjacent access to the Great Miami River Trail. In less time than it takes to tell, Daisy and I were on our way.
For whatever reason—too early, too chilly, or simply a moment of luck—we appeared to have this portion of the trail to ourselves. No joggers, bicyclists, rollerbladers, skateboarders, or fellow walkers—with or without accompanying pooches. A couple of intact spider webs strung across the path at face level made me decide we were, in fact, the day’s first users.
A few yards away, the silver mirror of the flowing river slipped sedately along—inviting, beckoning me to come fish its shimmering pools and purling riffles.
I wasn’t alone in my angling notions.
A great blue heron poised in a rocky shallows—hunched slightly forward, mindful of our presence, though chiefly intent on watching the water in hopes of nabbing his breakfast.
Golden sunlight filtered through the overhead canopy. The changing leaves, backlighted by the strong illumination, glowed like stained glass. An incandescent dazzle that gave the hushed morning and quiet trail a cathedral-like ambiance—a sort of tranquil sacredness.
It seemed like there were legions of squirrels out and about—bounding to and fro across the trail, jumping up to latch waist-high onto the trunk of a nearby tree, often dashing madly along the limb-to-limb aerial pathways twenty feet above our heads.
Daisy was already full-to-overflowing with pent-up energy. But those tantalizing gray squirrels—so close, yet just out of reach—soon had her in a near-frenzy. And at 60-plus pounds of headstrong power, she soon had my arm aching from her pulling.
For my part, those goading bushytails stirred a needed reminder to soon plan a hill-country squirrel hunt. There’s nothing like being a mile deep in some vast southeastern Ohio woods. Sitting on the steep side of a deep holler, back against the bole of a big shagbark, shotgun across my lap. Shivering a bit, you wait and watch dawn come slipping over the high eastern ridgetop.
It’s a pure wonderment, to view this breathtaking natural drama from a front-row seat. You sit transfixed, agape, watching as another glorious morning lifts up from the darkness and a brand new day is created right before your eyes!
What a thrill! And all the while, you’re still keeping an ear attuned to the business at hand, listening intently for that first telltale whoosh of a gray squirrel jumping from branch to branch—heading your way!
Nope. There are not many places I’d rather be on a fine mid-autumn morning than on an Appalachian foothills squirrel hunt!
Daisy and I spent a bit over an hour exploring our way along that lovely trail. And we never saw another soul—which seems a an incredible fact given such a gorgeous morning.
But a gift of unexpected solitude I was delighted to savor. And I urge you to do the same…get out, take a walk, and enjoy autumn at its best!
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