Fall flees, and winter comes early to the Sierras. So a quick trip up into the mountains was necessary to catch the last of the fall color. While I love the foothills, we lack the colorful displays that Tahoe puts on.
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| the view doesn't get old |
Turns out we were a little late. An early snow storm blew down the last of the aspen leaves, leaving empty groves of white bark, and some trails covered in a fine dusting of snow, just enough to crunch through.
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| a little late, but still lovely |
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| hiking trail: no one else seen all day |
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| a tiny plant warms the snow around it |
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| late season flower |
After hiking, a trip to the lakeside. The lake was snow free (and often stays that way) but the icy water was best viewed from the shore. In the lee of a warm stone, I watched the lake and read my book. That is a pretty perfect fall day.
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| sparkly |
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| through the water |
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| old one of the forest |
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| until next year |
We were the first footsteps in the snow of the weekend, and our steps were soon covered by the next storm. Now we'd have to get the snowshoes out, but that is an adventure for another day.
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