The forests of the East are so strikingly different to those at home. The ground floor is dense with foliage in the summer, you could not see 10 feet ahead of you without the trail. And then in the fall, all the deciduous leaves fall and the path becomes golden, especially when the light is hitting it. The wind blowing gently through the leaves is one of the most beautiful sounds. Come winter, the forest is bare, and remains so for what seems like an eternity. Where has the green gone to? Snow is the only reprieve - providing contrast and sparkle to the quiet sleeping forest. And stirring again, slowly slowly spring emerges. Almost hiding away until suddenly it is summer once again.
All so beautifully captured in the lovely Supsucker Woods.