… or almost autumn. But at 7,000 feet, leaves turn a lot faster than they do down in the lowlands.
The place was absolutely crawling with deer. We lost track of how many we saw.
As pretty as these colors are, they are already fading – I should have done this three weeks ago for maximum effect.
The hazy sky behind the trees was the result of a cold front coming down from Idaho where a number of fires are still burning. It was 57 degrees up here last evening.
A patch of deciduous color amidst the scrub and pines.
We stopped at Box Lake (more of a puddle, really – the Goodwoman of the House is from Maine, and she knows what real lakes look like). Had dinner on some rocks while enjoying the view. You can see how low the water level is, the drought is affecting all of our reservoirs.
Someone had built a home worthy of Scuppers the Sailor Dog.
(One of my favorite books as a child, I was tickled to find a copy again later.)
On the way down, a final burst of color in a parking area.
Many small groups of deer, in twos (mothers with children), threes, and fives – but no greater clusters than that. It was getting dark and we had to drive slowly because they were crossing the road frequently.
A lovely drive.
The Old Wolf has spoken.