The right weather conditions just didn't happen to make those really spectacular fall colors. According to the U. S. Forest Service website (here), you need a warm, wet spring, favorable summer weather and warm, sunny fall days and cool nights. The warm period that we're in right now isn't helping anything either.
Nevertheless, I still went out with the camera this past weekend in search of color and have a few shots to post here. (Click on each of them for that 'you are there' effect.)
As usual, the area around Gore Orphanage Road didn't disappoint. Here's a view looking north at Sperry Road.
And here's a view looking south, with Gore Orphanage Road going into the valley on the left and Sperry Road on the right.
Another area that usually has some color is the French Creek Reservation. Here's a few pix from the main road through the park.
Here's one more of Gore Orphanage Road.
Fall puts me in a pensive mood. I'm not one for poetry very much, but I like this poem. It's from the September 1957 'Autumn' issue of ideals.
Country Lanes
by Ruth Fortney Maxwell
Country lanes are calling me
Now that autumn is here...
I know just how they all are garbed
Since grass is growing sear.
The sumac waves a crimson flag,
The oaks are russet hue;
The bittersweet has sunset tints
And wild grapes still are blue.
The goldenrod is faded gold,
The ivy leaves have turned
From apple-green to coral red
While weeds to brown are burned.
The milkweed seeds have blown away,
But still the thistledown
Is clinging to its withered stalks...
A hoary, fluffy crown.
A beauty feast is all prepared
For those whose eyes can see
The tints and shades, the tones and hues,
Those lanes are calling me.
