All summer, startled grouse have fled unseen in the heavy underbrush, known only by the slap of wings on leaves. Now, when our approach alerts them, we catch a glimpse of tail feathers. Soon, all the leaves will be gone, and we may see them before they fly, though their colour blends well with the brown and grey of November.
Already, the woods feel more open. Where underbrush lines the paths, we can begin to see the shape of the shrubs beyond the edge. Where trees are tall, more light comes to the ground and the shape of the land in the distance is visible. Houses that I know are there but cannot see are starting to show how they are made. The beautiful layered rock of the escarpment can be seen from farther away. The lights of the Meaford Land Force Training Base have reappeared. I am sure they shown all night all summer, but the leaf canopy hid them.
What cannot be seen is the ground. Orange-brown leaves cover the earth. Because of the rain we've had, these are matted together, a bright carpet of colour hiding what is beneath. This does make walking a bit difficult as the leaves will slide, and I cannot tell if there is moss or wet mud beneath. Before too long, it won't matter what the ground is like, only how packed the snow is or is not.
Small birds are quite visible now. Flitting along the branches of the bare ash tree, their movement intriguing. Once it gets colder, they will be less visible again. They will pop out of hiding to grab seed at the bird feeder, then dash back to the shelter of the spruce trees.
The structure of the large ash tree in our yard is laid out against the sky. No leaves hide the branches. Most have fallen from the graceful sumac as well. Soon it will be the same with the maples, though for the moment they hold their brilliant orange-red leaves.
Although a few asters are still blooming in sheltered spots near to the ground, most of the wild flowers have died. The brown plants still stand, however, revealing the structure of the plant--central stem and branches. I miss the green, but I am intrigued as I compare one plant to another. Others, like the impatiens are melting away to nothing.
I've caught sight of the moon as it fades from full, and a few stars. The sun, however, is MIA. A glimpse where sky meets water as the clouds are tinted red. Grey skies dominate these days.
The shape of the rocks along the shoreline are visible. The water level has dropped. With the huge waves that came with the wind, algae has been washed away from the rocks. We see their colour, their shape, when the water retreats, watch the ever-changing shape of the waves as the water rushes back.
Soon, the shape of the land will be hidden. The shifting shapes of snow will be seen. Perhaps, this year what is under the water will be hidden by ice. For the moment, though I lament the loss of colour, I am enjoying the structure of the world that is revealed as the leaves go.
Cathy Hird lives on the traditional territory of the Saugeen Ojibway
