Colin and I were going to Algonquin Provincial Park, when we hit upon the maple leaves. Nobody around us knew, just two of us.
Farms, ranches, colored woods and surrounded lakes flashing by the way, and our white Ford Explorer rushing on the Highway 11, we felt the beautiful scene would be nearby.
Getting out Highway 11, I stood on the wayside of Highway 60, holding a cup of TimHortons' black coffee in hand, I felt not only the warmth of the coffee, but also the charmed scene just before me. We almost forgot our destination.
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| Charmed View from TimHortons at Huntsville |
Sometimes, A beauty has already been here, but we aren't aware of it. If we knew how to slow down our life, and learned to look around, we would discover lots of fantastic pictures around us.
When we drove through a hummocky, a pile of maples just slipped away, but a bare tall limb penetrating into the blue sky gave me a deep impression. I could imaginably see that it had been a lovely outstanding red maple tree.
Many people waited on the way, so we should be patient with it. After half an hour, we entered the park. Park fee was $16 per day. But I thought that Staying here overnight would be better. Perhaps you were able to see the sunrise view of the park.
Highway 60 went through the south of Algonquin Provincial Park. Lakes and woods were along with the road. There were about 15 trails with length from 1km for normal hiking to 35km for backbags. We weren't equipped, and also had little knowledge about this park except some online information about location and a PDF form map. Colin and I were more interesting in discover unknown things than review others' experiences. Perhaps we had our special vision of them.
Whiskey Rapids was a tiny trail which few people visited. Except some golden maple woods, and a narrow river, there was nothing. Even canoe was impossible for river bank collapsed and rocks fallen into it. Nobody was on river, but I thought it exemplify a kind of screams in Canada. It's calm and nature. Everything changed in no-sound flow. When I squatted on a large rock in the middle of river, silently staring into the water, my heartbeat slowed down and became smooth.
On the instance, Colin's hurried step on the leaves filling trail broke the silence. He intentionally made big noises for hinting me that we were living in a rapid running world. The rustle of falling yellow maples also told me we needed more sensitive and more active.
Hardwood Lookout was a highland besides a lake, After short hiking, we could get the plateau, there was a nice view point, so they saw it Lookout. In the nature way, there were bare limbs, green pines, and maples alternating by yellow and red.
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| Harwood Lookout |
When the golden leaves met deep blue lake, we also imaginably saw some piles of red or yellow trees, they were staggered and relied on others, played as a colored carpet. Even the bare limbs seemed like soft villus embedded in. I saw a view which was not artificial, but original. There had no unified color, but I felt a kind of harmony.
In the woods, there was another scene. deep red maple leaves which had been glorious on the maples were mixed into clay, light yellow maple leaves swinging on limbs weren't aware of their fallen fate. Followed with a cool breeze, yellow-red leaves drifted down.
If I had not walked in the woods, I would not know what those colored and appalling woods made and changed. After a week or more, there would be bleak. Bald trees would never soft, clear blue lake would be cold. However, there had been a marvellous sight before. That's enough.
Fiery-red maple leaves would be great under the blue sky. I couldn't image what was behind, but at that time, I saw a part of freedom.
Red and yellow leaves everywhere made me tired. Sometimes, I loved green leaves indeed. They weren't fashionable but different.
After some small trails, we arrived at
Centinnial Ridges. On the highland, We met the grand sight which played by maples and pines. There ware yellow, red, green or orange trees, occasionally we also saw some green maples were changing to yellowish, and they would be fiery-red next.
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| Centinnial Ridges |
A fiery-red maple was stretching out in the woods. It became the centre of the picture. I didn't know why so many people like red, but when I stood on the cliff, I payed attention on the red maple, and almost forgot the fantastic brightly yellow tree beside it. Whole woods were affected by that red one. All trees were going to be red.
Did you image that there also had a calm lake behind the lively maples? After a thick woods, a small pool appeared. It was isolated from other places for surrounded by the woods. It looked like a paradise.
We couldn't describe the feeling when we stood by the water. That was a super-natural sense. The fallen bald wood in the lake was bathed in sunshine, The inverted image in the water was swinging with the breeze.
We couldn't see the outer world, but we believe this was the same blue sky;We couldn't hear the outer world, but we believe we feel the same vibration.
There was no noise of city, no din of town, no thunder of machine.
Some trees aside water would fall in,
A group of birds would come here and sing,
But in most time, there was quiet, silent and clean.
When we climbed on a new plateau, we found that the highland , at which we looked out an hour before, became a part of woods, the main of new scene.
In about 4 hours hiking, walking in the wood spent us most of time. We were searching the beauty more than enjoying it. When we picked up a little maple leaf, we were seldom aware of that it was the element of the picture.
If you said there had another paradise, we weren't surprise. It appeared soon.
Fallen leaves slept on the lake, peaceful and tranquil.
I didn't know why they gave us the same feeling. Perhaps this was just Canada. A vast and no contaminate world. She kept a kind of originality. She was finding her own direction through the polychrome slow change.
Perhaps she liked these woods, seemingly disorder, but golden everywhere.
I was exhausted when sunset was coming. But we insistently climbed on the last highland. We saw a wide lake and a dyed red sidehill .
We was in the woods when the sun was set. We couldn't see the marks for trail. We were in fear of getting lose. However, my camera's flash-light saved us. Colin used it to see the farther mark, we followed the shining marks, and we finally saw our lovely white Ford.
When I saw the fallen leaves on the back home road, I was positive that the winds in autumn would bring away all the leaves they could. All the woods would become grayish.
But I dream that a pile of red maple leaves is still there. Next year, this time, we will come back. we will live there several days, we will sit down on the cliff and look out when sun is rising.
****The End****
