Returning to an undisclosed location along the Hudson Valley, this time after the leaves have fallen for the year, the mosses I’ve been admiring since May stood out as especially brilliant as the last gasp of green against the dark mouldering leaves.

It was great to hang out and catch up with Mom while Dad and my brother unloaded the tractor and dragged the trailerful of its accoutrement up the rocky, rutted, primitive track up to my brother’s new home. A brief picnic lunch — sandwiches and cup soup, tea and homemade cookies — and we headed back out again before the rain could bring our socially distant proto-Thanksgiving family catch-up to an abrupt end.

On our way home, we even managed to grab a few vista shots before the rain set in.