Late November in the Woods is a good time to see new things. After Thanksgiving, almost all the leaves are down. The green of the under story box elder and young green ash have fallen, pulling back the curtain on longer views across the Woods. Sufficient frosty and just cold days have passed, so the population of ticks is essentially dormant. It is a time when it is easy to leave the trails, walk new places, and discover new secrets hidden during summer. It is a time to walk through the thick swards of sedge that are off-limits in warmer months when ticks are active. There are biological features hidden there, deposits of bleached white shells from aquatic snails, cattails, and native Hibiscus, visible in late autumn. Off trail and wandering, there are new fresh growths of big oyster mushrooms. I broke off bits to enjoy as I wandered this afternoon. (Don't try this, unless you are with an expert and certain of the identification.)
The marked trails now have been refreshed, with some leaves cleared away by volunteers. The trails will fill again with leaves after new windstorms, but for now, the trails are charming brown ribbons winding through the forest.
This is a time when some of the invasives reveal themselves. The orange pinnate leaves of the Chinese pistache stand out like tree flames, held long after native trees have dropped their leaves. The one persistent patch of English ivy reveals its dark waxy green leaves marked with dull white. The one patch of oriental bittersweet I have fought for years reveals new shoots with uniquely rounded and toothed yellow leaves that have grown this year, some sprouts almost knee high. I stop to check and am surprised that there are easily 50 sprouts visible across the patch. I have been an absentee gardener over the summer. I carefully pull up all that I see by the roots but I know that these invasives will likely be here after I am gone. Who will come and pull them out, keep them from spreading their leafy invasive stems across the forest to entangle all the canopy years from now?
The Western Wash is partially refilled with pools of dark water, stained by tannin in fallen leaves. Not enough water for flowing water to clear the dark pools. The NW and Eastern Ponds both are gradually refilling. This evening's gentle rain will help. Will it be long until the winter is cold enough to put ice across the shallow ponds and wash?
In the SW around the stand of big bur oaks, armadillos have been busy foraging through dry oak leaves seeking grubs, snails, millipedes, beetles. With an impressive palate for chemically well-defended invertebrates they are busy feeding before the deeper cold arrives. They weave winding trails through the leaves, like small forest vacuum cleaners.
The new openness of the Woods reveals a new scar, summer construction work to replace and support the a sewer line running east west across the northern edge of the Woods. The work is finished and looks well done but many large old trees were cut, bulldozed, piled or reduced to chips to allow access for the heavy machinery to do the work. The workers left new impressive banks of heavy, rough light-colored stone rip-rap to hold the steep slopes in place until forest vines and vegetation can reclaim the denuded work area. This will be a new environment for the Woods where stones are otherwise absent. It will be interesting to see what animals make new homes there. Mice? lizards? sun-loving insects, snakes? (now uncommon) enough to limit the smaller rodents, insects and lizards that make up their diet?
Stopping by my favorite grandfather cottonwood on the north side of the old dunes, I feel a letting-go of busy human concerns. The small joys, fears, triumphs, concerns, interactions with others shrink into insignificance. The forest of trees, soil, and all the living creatures here is the real world. My insignificance brings release, relief and a deeper happy connection to the reality around me.