The River Trail

Yesterday Adam and I took a walk with Max (my brother), Anne (his lovely wife), and Faith (another dear sister-in-law). We're visiting in West Virginia for a few days before the holiday season hits us all in the face. The nice walk in these hilly parts of the world is down along the Greenbrier River, on an old railway bed -- flat and straight.

Temps are in the teens or lower at night, and highs are still cold. The water just looked cold to us -- know what I mean? Brrr!

A sign at the head of the trail. I found it humorous that in West Virginia apparently it's just as common to have a mule as a horse, and to take it on a walking trail. Adam turned his mind to how you could possibly indirectly tie your animal to something, and thus keep the law.

Many years ago, a rock quarry was active along this railway line. The rock faces dotting the trail are impressive.

Some private landowner spanned the river with a foot bridge.

They do their best to prevent anyone else from coming across to their island in the middle of the river.

Faith noticed this mossy log with its community of mushshrooms.

Pom Pom, I thought you might enjoy this. If I were a very tiny fairy, I'd live here.

Icy white caps ~

My brother Max is an energetic walker, and could go on indefinitely (he's a farmer), but at last I asked to turn back. I knew I'd walk each step thus far, again. The sun was sinking along the sky.

I love the light in autumn, its slant, and the effect on tree trunks and ground, the crumble of leaves

Our side of the river was in deep shade; the opposite side was lit by sunset.

How I love these two ladies -- sisters to me who am sisterless, and friends to me for many years.

MK, Anne, Faith. Our warm gear doesn't do much for our looks, but they are stunningly beautiful, inside and out.

Not many leaves have the tenacity to hold on now. Late November in West Virginia this year has been unusually cold and more like January, I'm told.

Sheets of thin ice sparkle in the sun's fire.

We headed home.