We’re slooooowly coming into my favorite time of year. I love the particular shade of blue the sky gets right now and the way the air seems somehow sharper, even here in the city where we are still suffering through some code orange days. I once had occasion to fly over the Appalachian mountains at the height of the season’s turning and was enchanted by the unending colors undulating below. While nothing can compare with Spring in the South I truly believe that Autumn is the best time of year for basking in nature’s glow. It’s also the time of year for every little town to have a festival. Where I come from it’s apple butter, bratwurst and pumpkins. In this part of the world (http://www.southfest.com) it seems to be, among other things, apples, marble and beer. North or South these wonderful events always have a parade, a festival queen, bouncy fings (as we say at my house) and face painting for the kids, crafts fairs and food vendors. This is when I can count on getting a corn dog and indulge my taste for fresh fried pork rinds. Yep, for me, this time of year is way better than Christmas.
I worried about moving this far South because I thought I would be robbed of a decent season change. Though I still haven’t adjusted to thinking about yard work in late February I can be content with the Autumn colors and when that’s not enough I can run away to the mountains. The Georgia Department of Natural Resources currently has the Leaf Watch going, with tips for the best trails for color and even a webcam on Black Rock Mountain. I check out a Georgia Park Pass, grab a few books out of the collection, including a few to explain the color change to the Back Seat Club and we’re on our way, perhaps stopping at a roadside stand for fresh cider and a peck of apples.
Afoot and Afield in Atlanta by Marcus Woolf
Nature Adventures in The North Georgia Mountains by Mary Ellen Hammond
Hiking Georgia by Donald W. Pfitzer
Hiking Trails of the Great Smoky Mountains by Kenneth Wise
Investigating Why Leaves Change Color by Ellen Rene
Autumn Leaves by Ken Robbins