California’s eastside aspens are awesome and well worth an October outing. But really, there’s fall magic all around us. Want to get “unstuck” in your seeing and tune into your own place or places? Maybe try seeking out this other, sometimes-subtle autumnal palette.

We have a so-called Mediterranean or “drought” climate, where winter storms bluster from late November thru February, then dry conditions clamp down. Very little, if any, moisture comes in spring, summer, and fall. Classic California landscapes all reflect this cycle.

Autumn itself makes a long, slow arc here, sowing its seeds as early as August, then hanging on until even December. Look for peeling madrone trunks. Poison oak. Buckeyes. Buckwheat. Black oaks. Bilberry and blueberry. Rabbitbrush. Rhubarb. Rusty ferns. Creekside willows. Dogwood leaves. Bigleaf maples in the cool coastal canyons. Pickleweed turning crimson in the salt marsh. Tarantulas tap-tap-tapping down the dusty trail. Busy, busy chickarees stashing cones for winter.

From on high comes the faint, prehistoric gargling of sandhill cranes tracking south: you’ll hear them before you see them.

Winter’s news is on its way, and it’s broadcast by a chill in shady spots and a dry rustling thru the corn lilies and amongst the treetops. Or via the scent of fallen, frosted leaves.

But for now time has stopped. Grab a folding chair, set a spell, and watch. Meadow grasses, lodgepole trunks, and daydreams are all bathed in angled, honeyed, and slightly smoky October light. A few distant sounds—maybe a Stellar’s jay calling—swirl lazily thru the air like leaves falling from sycamores.

Otherwise, it’s QUIET here in California. We’re all just holding on and waiting for rain.

By Scott Atkinson

The Other Autumn

Simple Things

Stay Home