As I entered the forest, I noticed a clear change from just a couple of weeks ago. The floor was a sea of fallen pine needles and leaves that had turned their colors and called it a day. Only a few trunks still held onto the greenery at their highest branches. The white oaks and paper birches were completely sparse making the overstory a patchwork of sky, sticks, and needles. The only color on the forest floor was the rich green lichens on exposed rocks.
I sat for a while near the edge of the cliffside facing the river and the other side of the gorge. In front of me, a few commendable trees grew from the steep rockface and thin soils with emerging tree roots and slippery rocks surrounded with lichens, mosses, and small grasses. After sitting for just a bit, my face was red from the relentless wind. Behind me, a row of thin cedars slowly opened into the full forest with hemlocks, oaks, and birches. At first glance, I took these small cedars to be youngins but the harsh conditions hinted at the species’ ability to adapt and survive by staying small. I’m excited to see how they fare in the wintry weather!
