To the west

We were prepared to put our bikes away but a rare November 12 C day enticed us to go cycling again. My husband and I continued westward on Prince Edward Island, beginning at Portage. No need for warm clothing this day. The slight southerly breeze was warm and fall clothes were sufficient. The sun never exposed itself for the day, merely hinted at an appearance.

This section of trail has many flat straight stretches through areas of bog and farmland. The bogs are rimmed by juniper/larch trees which are pretty as their needles respond to the darker days and cooler temperatures. 

The deciduous trees are naked, spent leaves covering the woodland. Grey branches and trunks predominate and contrast with the browns of tall grasses and bulrushes.

White birches stand out in this setting.

The bare branches expose wasp and bird nests, curiosities now that their former residents have moved on. 

A cat stops to watch the two seniors approach on bikes. 

Further along the trail, a Ruffed Grouse follows a companion across the trail. I stopped for the first one, and while I waited for my husband, the second one sauntered across as well.

It was well camouflaged in the vegetation along the trail.

An old house on Jack-a-Point Road has seen better days. The roof could provide a roller coaster ride. The house doesn’t look that old which poses the question as to what caused its current curvaceous shape. 

One also has to wonder about the name of the road. 

On the way back to the car, we stopped for a breather. We had cycled thirty kilometres and were tired as we looked around. The light was typical of November but the stillness of the day was not. It was perfect!

Bonshaw moments

The field at the beginning of the trail was a source of joy for the golden grand-dog. Off the lead, she ran, jumped and hopped around the field which we had never seen her do before. 

While my husband and I walked the winding path through the field, Georgie managed to prance around its length. 

Her joy was palpable. I understand the feeling. 

When we entered the woods at the bottom of the field, the trial was covered in leaves. The sound of the crunching leaves made this walk different from most of our walks among the Bonshaw Hills. 

We had never visited when the leaves were underfoot as they were this day. Snow keeps us off these trails and the snow is later than usual this year. The crunch and shuffling leaf sound as we walked was nature’s rhythm section come to life.

I thought I would miss the leaves from overhead but such was not the case. The sound underfoot was welcome but so was the leaf covered undergrowth, in all its rustic-coloured glory. 

Interspersed with the ferns which are still thriving, the forest floor is enveloped in fallen beauty.

In several places, ground hemlock looked like its needles were diamonds, formed by the sun instead of the earth.

Along the trails, trunks of the trees were more noticeable now without the distraction of the leafed canopy.

Above, where leaves previously resided, now each twig has its chance in the sun. The white of the birch trees is always impressive!

We had a picnic in the park and watched as this unusual insect braved the 10 degree C temperature. 

It too was lucky the snow has stayed away so long this year.

We walked again after lunch and as the sun dropped lower in the sky, the shapes of the tall giants around us took focus. Everything about trees is magnificent.

It was another day when nature gave me a sense of well being. It lifted my spirits and spoke to my soul. I know exactly how Georgie felt in that field!