It’s December today, but we have no glittering snow icing, cool blue in the shade or soft pink in the sunset. Just dead, crusty leaves and bare, scraggly branches. So, how about one last lingering look at October’s brilliance? These shots are from two trips, one afoot and one a-wheel!
Yang and I found a new bicycle ride outside of Boston, The Neponset River Trail, which runs along the river out to the Blue Hills. Here is a portion that cuts along and across a canal (via a bridge of course!). The trees look striking, reflected in the water, and must provide a lovely view to people living in the mill converted to apartments.
We started the ride from Pope John Paul Park, where the river is almost an estuary. If you ride away from Milton, the river broadens and becomes tumultuous as it races toward the ocean.
That’s not in any of these shots, though.
Yang had a good time! We both had to pause for a rest on the way back!
Our other recorded trip was to the wilds of the forested hills of Leicester. It was a lovely Friday afternoon, shortly after Yang got out of classes. The colors here were a blend of yellow and toasted orange.
The red golds of autumn were not yet lying in the gutter dead (tip o’ the hat to Graeme Edge).
The hat in this shot would be my marine blue beret, which I bought in France last spring. As long as we’re on international wardrobe, my in-laws from China gave me the coat when I visited them last autumn.
Delving into the woods, we came across the backwash from a pond. The autumn sky’s pellucid blue is such a striking complement to green pines and the fall colors.
Hiking back to our car along the road, the evening began to close in, so that the last flare of the sun created a vibrant flame of color in the trees.
All that tramping and beauty makes a body hungry. So Yang and I repaired to Le Mirage for sustenance. As you can see, Mr. Piranha made short work of his meal.
Sadly, this was the last night of this wonderful restaurant. Le Mirage is now closed, and so lovely meals, good times, and good friends are now relegated to memories. Much thanks to Diane, her family, and her staff.