December on the Bend, 12/13/23

Into the busyness that is December, we found a free afternoon and took advantage of it.  Rather than our usual out-the-door to the Cascade Canal path, we made the short drive to the South Yuba River so we could walk our favorite Buttermilk Bend trail.  This time of year it's good to be outside, away from stores and baking and computers, and into winter's quiet, where one can appreciate the stillness and find joy in nature's hibernation.  

This river looks like a small creek right now, but we have seen it full and raging.  As it awaits winter's rains and snow, the river just chuckles along.

In the clear water, we could see the sandy bottom.  Submerged boulders, iceberg-like, showed a gray tip above the water with a rocky mass below.

If we'd a mind to do it, we thought we could walk across the river in some places and only get our ankles wet.  But we know the river is cold.

The Yuba presented many faces today.

Especially lovely was the golden glow above.

Though Buttermilk Bend is known for its wildflower display in spring, 'tis not wildflower season now.  Toyon -- California's holly -- with its bright red berries, was the only color to be seen among the earth tones of winter.  A welcome contrast to the muted landscape.

From up on the trail, the last leaves of autumn looked like flowers.

The river's pools seem dark and mysterious.

I climbed far out on the boulders to video the river for Instagram.  But I forgot to post it.

Polished granite boulders shine like expensive silver trays.  So gorgeous.  And you have to love a pop of yellow. 

Listening.  Looking.  Still.

Here the water has an almost-aqua tint as it rushes downstream.

Many of the trees had shed their leaves and we could see into the forest on the north-facing slope.  A few trees had crispy leaves that curled up, fetal-like. Yet, seeing some green leaves made it feel less austere, less wintry.  The day itself was chilly and sunny at our house.  On the trail, we didn't need our jackets, the sun felt warm and toasty ... till shadows reached across the river and we knew it was time to turn around.

Smooth and buffed to a fine sheen, reflecting all above it.

Come January or maybe February, no one knows for sure, the polished granite boulders will be hidden below high water.

Fleecy white mare's tales reached across a bluebird sky, tickling a snag's sticks.  As we neared the car, more clouds filled in and the sky turned a slate color. 

These Osage Orange trees and fruit are a curiosity.  I don't think they belong here; their natural habitat is Oklahoma, Texas and Arkansas.  I don't think they're good for anything, either, except as a curiosity.

Ahhh, such a great place to recharge batteries, a balm to soothe the soul during this hurried month.  Today we didn't hurry, we stopped frequently with the river's roar always below us, and noting every glorious thing around us.  The trail is roughly three miles and we spent roughly two hours on it.  Just the right amount of time.  Tomorrow we can return to December's needs.