The winter forest in north Alabama is a beautiful place. Different, but beautiful.
It’s different, I should say, from the summer forest, which, I should add, is also a beautiful place. Beautiful, but different.
Truthfully, the winter forest when viewed from a distance is sort of monochromatic. Lots of browns, with the occasional splash of green from a pine tree or an evergreen privet or honeysuckle bush.
The deciduous forest has dropped its leaves, and the trees stand silent and still with nothing on their branches to catch the wind.
Ah, but the details. The details are gorgeous if one looks closely enough.
The mosses, tiny in stature, seem greener than green as they absorb the sunlight they’re deprived of when the trees above them are in leaf.
The mushrooms and other fungus glow orange, red, and yellow, their colors in brilliant contrast to the browns behind them.
The woodpeckers and cardinals that flit from tree to tree, their red feathers visible from a tremendous distance.
Finally, the blue sky above and the yellow-orange sun sitting low in the southern sky.
The details, indeed, are gorgeous if one looks closely enough.