3 November 2024 – This side of the equator, in this latitude range, deciduous trees are well into their annual sylvan strip tease.

They shed their leaves…

and shimmy through the winter in their bare branches.

Some trees strip from the top down, clinging to their knickers…

some strip from the bottom up, clutching their camisoles….

and some fling off their leaves any old which-way.

Some, like these front-door guardians, hang on defiantly, still full-dressed and glowing bright…

while others are already full-naked, brown/black against the sky.

The evergreens are wonderful and rich, I love their year-round colour, their generous textures and dimensions…

but… oh… just look at the stark, bold power of this naked silhouette. (Not to mention its effortless demonstration of fractals. Why beat your brain with formulae, when you could just go look at a tree?)

I am mostly tree-struck, on this walk, but as I weave my way back from Sahalli Park I notice some other things as well.

A few left-over Hallowe’en pumpkins (so three days ago!)…

the punchiest little free library ever, tucked into its embracing greenery…

(where to my amazement I am able to pick up a copy, in its original French, of the 1948 landmark political/ cultural/artistic Québec manifesto, Refus global)…

and, framed by bare branches (L) and evergreens (R) and a crimson vintage Mount Pleasant home, ‘way over there across Burrard Inlet and high on Grouse Mountain…

the season’s first snow.

Snow!!

I head home, chilled fingers suggesting it really is time to dig out some gloves, and stop at the door long enough to pick a few of the last surviving marigolds in our street-front display.

Once inside…

I put together a posy.

And then I go hunting my gloves!