The Joy of Autumn Leaves in Autumn Hill Reservation

The ostensible purpose of my walk at Autumn Hill Reservation yesterday was utilitarian, to clear a couple fallen trees from the trail, but the leaves had prepared a surprise party.  

They didn't need to do much to make me happy. Ever since I was a kid, leaves have brought me joy. Though most leaves have fallen, the occasional highbush blueberry is still radiant with color.

Even the winged euonymus, which we spend time removing due to its overabundance, gave a fine demonstration of how it can turn sometimes white rather than red, if the shade is deep enough. 

Here's one that got enough sun to show why it is sometimes called burning bush. 

But the real joy came from the leaves below my feet. Freshly fallen, they made the woods look like it had just turned upside down and become a reflection of itself. Leaves that had peered austerely down at us all summer were now looking up, basking in the newly abundant light now pouring down through the opened canopy. 

I see something of myself in a leaf, collective in spirit, mingling comfortably among many sorts. They seem to be enjoying a leaf's version of retirement, relieved of the workaday world of photosynthesis, their true colors finally showing. I can keep my eyes on the trail and still know that above me tower tulip trees, sweetgum, and sassafras.

Another source of pleasure was the condition of the trail. Though our Friends of Herrontown Woods takes care of trails at Autumn Hill Reservation, we spend most of our time at Herrontown Woods, depending on our volunteers who live near Autumn Hill in Montgomery for periodic reports of any work needing to be done. 

Last year we made some initial improvements in the trails, shifting one stretch over to higher ground along an old rock wall. Hard to believe that this peaceful meander became navigable only after we overcame a dense tangle of invasive shrubs--multiflora rose, winged euonymus, privet and linden viburnum. 

Nice when battle leads to lasting peace, when struggle with thorn and thicket segues to a walk decorated with a fresh new layer of leaves, radiant on a misty moisty afternoon. I paused for a moment to look for the three shapes of sassafras, and later on, writing this, realized I had stumbled upon the reason it's called Autumn Hill.