Spirit parades

Most links lead to associated photos.

November 6. I am home from a few days in Toronto and eager to walk along the river again. The weather has settled into a dreary monotony of which only November is capable, and yet it has been a morning of exceptional beauty. Bright leaves still cluster on shrubs and vines, even some sheltered maples. Many of the city maples are afflicted with black spots on their leaves. I must find out what causes this. Another question: why is the Owens Corning fibreglass plant infested with rock doves? Most of the trees along the river have dropped their leaves. Sky, woods and reflections in the river have turned to a scale of greys. The gold marsh grasses look like pale fire along the shore. On a fallen limb of Acer negundo (Manitoba maple or box-elder) I find glistening brown clusters of Gymnopus acervatus mushrooms. I don't find fungi in this woods as often as outside the city. Is this a consequence of air pollution or disturbance to the soil?

November 7. I walk home from downtown along the rail line. The weather has suddenly turned fine. I had hoped the sunlight would improve my state of mind. Still I feel anxious and depressed. The afternoon light settling on warehouses alongside the tracks is muted and piercing, like nostalgic old photographs.

November 8. During the afternoon I work hard on a writing project. Seeing the sunlight fade, I decide to go for a walk. It's unusual for me to visit the park at this time of day, not even 5 p.m., and already the sun has set. The river is cast in muted light. Rising from the far shore is the pale phantom of a dead elm.

November 10. Again I wake to see bright light against my curtain. It is 7 a.m. Peeking around I see a bad of pink cloud against the sunrise. I dress quickly and go outside to capture it on film, but within a few minutes the pink shades have fled into the West. This period of fine weather has improved my mood. It has also brought sharp frost. Passing cars still bear white scrapings etched on their windshields. A