Winter is coming. But gold still abounds. Foxtail grasses wave plumey seedheads which will provide food for small birds such as the junco, and sparrows which stay here all years.
Squirrel tails wave in the gold hiding their own treasure against the winter snows. Where they forget, things grow.
Norway maples hold on their leaves long after their cousins drop theirs. While I prefer the oranges and reds of the sugar maples, I begrudingly admit that this gold is wonderful...even if it sometimes means that you are madly trying to gather them for the last leaf pick-up by the town (not me...I compost mine to change their gold to black gold in the spring).
Strange, alien seedpods, an invaisive member of the morning glory family.....whose name I can't remember, cling to the trellis at Fulton Farms....Waiting for the winter winds.