The birthday hike’s becoming a tradition.

This year’s was at a new corner of Beaver Lake, the Lost Bridge trail at its north end. Sunday was bright and warm. Acorns pelted the layer of fallen leaves. A southern wind whistled through the rigging and clanged the bells of the ships floating in the cove. A busted pier or two littered parts of the shore, with tiny pieces of Styrofoam lining the water. It would’ve been almost creepy if it weren’t such a beautiful day. I guess that’s fitting for October.

Thanks for lookin’.