There is one reality about life in the West: snap your fingers and summer hits you in the face, and snap them again and it’s gone. Not that I am complaining, as I really don’t like summer. However, things happen with great speed in the fall, and I find myself scrambling to check items off the list for quite a variety of book projects.
There are scrubby maple tree/bush plants out here. They have the same bark and leaf as an eastern maple, though seem to top out at 20 feet, lacking the majesty of the eastern trees (I can’t believe I am calling something eastern majestic and the western equivalent scrubby). These are in peak right now, favoring bright red colors, whereas the quintessential autumn colors of western aspen haven’t really shown up yet. Here is the first of the season.
For whatever its worth, its really hard to photograph these guys from the ground. It just doesn’t cut it the same.
Autumn in the Caribou and Snake River Ranges
Note the aspens are still green…
One maple tree along the Greys River.
Half baked idea to go climbing on a steep hill, in the mud, with no trail. Maples are so-so given the effort involved.
Sorry little maple tree, its just not the same as New York.
