Fall Colors Celebration 2024: Pt.1

2024-11-13&14

Politics create grief, sad, anger, anger, sad. We have been struggling. We needed a break, if not the cure, which is to get naked and get bowled over by nature. We needed to find what is immediate, get away to “it” and find perspective. It just so happened that in the Fall, leaf changes are happening and we had set aside the time to re-experience that splendor months ago.

These photos tend to speak for themselves. Instead of a more usual story with pics, this may be more pics with a story. I’ll often just pepper this short story with photos in a mostly random manner….

…We arrive on a brisk sunny afternoon. Seasons are changing, the Sandhill Cranes have arrived at their marshy winter home.  We stopped a couple of times on the side of the road to watch the grand flocks in the air.

The road had become much easier since our last visit and no longer a 4×4 task. We park, claiming our campsite and start walking.

There are three high clearance vehicles at the trailhead. A couple in a joyful mood is sitting on one pickup truck’s tailgate; the other two are empty. There are also two white trucks marked “Forest Service” parked side by side. This is too much activity for our privacy, but perhaps people are getting done and soon leaving at this hour.

We take off at a marching pace, as time is getting shorter. This will be a scouting expedition to get an idea about our seasonal timing. There is notably not much color, just patches splashed into the greens brown and greys. We know that there will be more color further up the trail, but this can be an indication of how profuse it may be.

We are greeted by an older middle aged couple who seem to have a need to share something. He blasts out “Welcome to Paradise!” Well, there must be something very good up there on the trail somewhere. The show can be seen in a relative perception, but the bug-eyed look and enthusiasm in these two’s eyes, is not about anything mediocre.  

As we explore, we don’t see as full of a showing as the last trip, back in 2021. We speculate as we walk along. We’re looking for evidence that will tell us if we are too late, or too early. We find both spent bare branches and fresh green leaves. Perhaps some of the species last longer, or perhaps that frost last week accelerated the process. In the end, we know that tomorrow on the way to the end of this canyon trail, we will get what we get.

We make it back into the canyon after enough sampling, to a spot where the cold shadow of the cliffs casts itself down onto the valley. The light isn’t beaming through the trees so much now. The automatic flash on my camera begins to function.

We turn back toward the probably empty parking lot. Not far past that lies our campsite.  Tomorrow will not be so cold and perhaps unpopulated by clothists.

The following morning, we get a late start; sleep has been disrupted since the election and the ensuing adjustments taking place. I’m still having a particular difficulty shutting out the inner alarm and dialog, something that is usually easy for me. I obviously am experiencing too much stress. I need this medicine.

We start dressed in incongruent layers. Camping garb is a practical strategy to stay warm and cope despite the discomfort of the cloth. We look that. DF takes one look at me and begins to laugh at my less than coherent selection. I return a chuckle.

The parking lot is empty. There is nobody to gawk at the discordant fashion of two clowns.

The empty parking lot means that the canyon is most likely all ours. No one has been seen, nor heard walking up the road, this morning.

We’ll wait for the sun to warm things up some more, before undressing to an original state. Our stride gets the blood flow going, there is no wind down here in the riparian area under the canopy of trees. Only an occasional light gust is noticed above.

It isn’t long before my thick kilt gets dropped into the backpack.

There are spots of colorful striking trees, trans-mutating with glory. After a few are documented, I mention to DF that one cluster would be more interesting, if she was in it. Her baggy nylon thermal pants extending under a Hawaii sundress, under a fleece shirt seems to take something away from the ambiance that we are shooting for. She agrees and “just for a few shots” she drops all of her wraps. In a dramatic finality, the white woolen stocking cap is slapped down, when added to the pile.

We begin to mingle with the branches of brightly colored flora.

DF doesn’t tolerate cold well. Some of that is a lack of body fat, some is mind. We are both reluctant to strip exposed to the air’s nip, but again, it is just a few shots.

The draping’s stay off as we walk on. DF gets a feel for the air, like dipping a toe into a pool, testing. Today reluctance is in our heads. Taking off up the trail, we feel wonderful to be nude.

Soon, the bundle in hand to be ready to shelter us once more is stuffed into the pack.

There is no value to clothing when we discover that all around us, as the man said yesterday, is “Paradise.”

There are strong differences in temperature, as we walk along. Sometimes dipping into the creek crossings there are shocking pockets of cold like a refrigerator’s air.

“Whew!” A very light breeze runs past us. The dramatic differences are a sensual treat, but DF is getting cold. I have my sweat shirt wrapped around my neck like a scarf to mitigate any chills. I suggest that she try that. It works out for her.

The next few hours are spent nude, sun to shadow, warm to cool, to cold, a grand array in the sensation of being alive in the blessing which is body.

All types of new dimensions are revealed, as all senses combine and respond to the plethora of bountiful pleasurable natural diversity.

A huge Red pine has stripped off its thick bark in large pieces measured in feet.

We have acquired a less hurried pace, indulging in this sense of aliveness in the natural beauty.

This is much more than a visual experience. We are in touch. Still, there are the multitudes of colors. Light shines through the reds above, glistening like rich rubies.

I will continue with the rest of this story before Thanksgiving Day.

I am on the forum of FreeRangeNaturism.com often, if you would like to converse.

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