In summer we linger in the woods: mountain laurels are beautiful in the morning; ferns look miraculous as the day comes to an end. We sunbathe on the mountain top, backs against warm rocks and heads sticking out in strong winds to wait for the hawk. The mountain range is of a monotonous green, uninteresting, and almost dull; we watch the skyline and passing clouds, surprised to see how high vultures can go. The waterfalls are tall, but it is fall that is so much richer and more beautiful here. Winter can be good, under a pure sky, or covered by forgetful snow.
