Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the blog, someone posts more fall leaves from the bog.
I’m as surprised as you are. I’d thought that the last post would be, you know, the last post of fall leaves for this year. But a short walk last week at Mer Bleue turned up new images. Mer Bleue is a peat bog that is about 7,700 years old (I think they check the peat’s teeth or growth rings or something like that to determine its age) and about 20 minutes from our house by car.
I had been advised by my photographer-neighbour that the larches were starting to turn and wouldn’t last long, so on one of the last truly fine days this fall we went out to take a look. Indeed my neighbour was right: the larch trees were turning colour. I got the Government of Ontario to agree to call larches tamaracks, but I’m still working on the broader community: tamaracks also go by eastern larch, American larch, black larch, red larch, and hackmatack. (Is that last one a kid’s mangling of tamarack? Dunno.) Anyway, the tamarack (et al.) is a deciduous conifer: it has needles but is not evergreen. Here’s what it looks like when it’s about to drop its needles, with some tamaracky friends in the background.
Nice, eh? And here’s what a non-coniferous deciduous tree (a maple of some kind, I think) looks like when it apparently isn’t quite ready to drop its leaves. Also nice.
To all of them — needle-dropping conifers and not-yet-leaf-dropping deciduands — I say, You do you. I think the voting is not yet closed on whether diversity is always our greatest strength, but it’s almost always beautiful.
One has to time it right, but the Valley of the Larches in Banff National Park is the most spectacular display I know of. It’s about a three-hour hike up from Moraine Lake (in groups of four or more, because of bears) but then you’re over the ridge and into this open spreading valley with rocks and stream and oh-so-yellow larches.
Jim T – 🙂 You had me right up to the “three-hour hike” part – and I assume it’s the same time back. But glad you saw it.
I’ve never thought or a tamarack tree (which I always misspell) as a larch. Guess I never kept the right company
The deciduous tree colour, while subdued, seems to have lasted longer this year.
Glad you got to Mer Bleue in time to see the larches glowing golden
Jim R – It might be regional variations. I learned them as tamaracks in Alberta, and couldn’t figure out what these larches were that people out here talked about. 🙂
The past week has shown more clearly the micro climates where some maples have remained or attained fiery red while others have turned to rust. The overall decor of the landscape strikes me as Baroque: the dark green evergreens providing a background for the golden and yellow mix of poplar, bitternut, oak, and tamarack while swamps and ditches fade to beige. A brisk wind this afternoon is tearing most of the bright colours down, but with willows obstinately green, sumac scarlet or crimson, and “burning bushes” here and there as reminders of the glory we have enjoyed. I feel that I can almost face winter now.
Laurna – Every year for the last 23 I have been surprised at how long the leaves hang on in the fall in this part of Ontario. We’re 2/3 of the way through October and although some trees are already bare, others are still green, albeit a subdued shade. You’d think at some point I’d get used to it – a slow learner, I guess. Either that, or early training triumphs. 🙂
Diversity is a good thing – makes one think. Why do the needles turn yellow? They do, and Calgary created Baker Park, which among other natural features, is home to towering larches. So easy to visit, when one’s hiking days are over.
Judith – That’s fascinating! Googling “larches in Calgary” turns up an article about the best viewing spots. It looks like there are at least 4 notable parks/walks without leaving the City.
Leaves fall in autumn. Here’s a poem I wrote recently.
“When Autumn Leaves Fall” (by Tom Watson)
When autumn leaves fall…
When autumn leaves drift
down, they’re like memories
in motion—subtle reminders
that all things change.
Despite being an oasis of bright,
sunny days and cool, crisp nights,
autumn is the signal that summer
is drawing to an end, and soon
what falls will be snowflakes—
pure, white, silent.
Our own lives mirror this
autumnal transition, bringing
back memories of all those
who, in quiet or bold ways,
shaped who we are.
We’re drawn to reflect on those
wonderfully precious earlier days,
pause, and say a heartfelt prayer
for how blessed our lives have been.
And so, when autumn leaves fall…
we fall into gratitude.
Tom
Tom – Thanks for sharing. It’s my favourite time of year. Better even than spring, which is pretty wonderful.
Isabel – Hackamatack is a perfectly recognizable tree species if you are from the Annapolis Valley and it is the one evergreen that turns yellow and drops its needles in the fall. Larches and tamaracks are some strange species from somewhere else in Canada – mostly in Northern Canada I think.
John – 🙂 OK, good to know. I might have guessed it was a regional usage, but did not.
And bunny-hugs to you
IKR? Exactly why it might have occurred to me for hackmatack.