First Snow by Susan L.

  In true Canadian fashion the glorious colours of last weekend were ripped away by the north wind, a precursor to the snow squalls and flurries of yesterday and this morning. In true Canadian fashion, I thought this first snow lovely as it fell in tissue flakes, promptly melting as it hit the ground. In true Canadian fashion, come February, I won't think it so pretty!
  It is unusual to have snow this early. I don't even have my snow tires on yet! Next week. I am sure the garage will be busy with everyone scrambling to get their winter treads on. 'Tis the season after all. 
  I'm glad we went for the hike at Mono Cliffs Provincial Park last week, taking advantage of an unusually warm fall day. There's a couple of lookout spots and a staircase that leads down into a crevasse in the cliff face. I've been there on my own when the park wasn't so busy with other beauty seekers and it's like sitting in a medieval cathedral. Breaks in the stone frame stained glass glimpses of the trees above and below.
  Life has a tentative grip on the rock face. Moss, ferns and small but ancient trees ornament the irregular rock face. Silver lichens shine in the dusky light. It's a beautiful place to simply pause and rest.
  We opted to take a side trail to get away from the crowds once we'd walked along the lip of the cliff and explored the crevasse. It wasn't long before the noise of laughing families drifted out of earshot. Only a couple of other hikers had ventured into this part of the park. Like us, they were seeking the quiet.

  It was a lovely trail. I think it's the nicest one in the entire park. Meandering up and down rolling hills into massive stands of maple trees then down into cosy cedar glens. It opened up about half way through on a small, shallow lake that shone like a sapphire in the late afternoon sun. Tiny fish jumped for their supper leaving rippling rings as evidence of their efforts.
  In places along the trail, tiny streams bubbled up from nowhere, their laughing waterfalls and cascading trills a small reminder of spring torrents. Board bridges or old fashioned corrugated paths made by lying logs side by side helped get us through some of the wetter places.
  One thing about fall hiking is the quiet. A raven's harsh croak was the only birdsong we heard. I guess the rest are either heading south or getting ready to. I'd like to visit the lake come spring. It must be an ideal spot for waterfowl to raise their young.
  I feel blessed that there are places like this so close to home: roughly a half hour drive away. I feel blessed to live in a country with such unique diversity to its landscapes. I feel blessed and oh so thankful to be writing about it and in doing so am once again on the paths of exploration.
  "Sing to God you kingdoms of the earth; Oh, sing praises to the Lord, Selah." Ps 68:32