Photo essay: a return to the Bighorn mountains in Wyoming for an autumn pilgrimage to the Medicine Wheel and a turning of seasons.
The stifling remnants of summer have fled at last. Cool autumn air has settled in across the land. Although the trees remain fully leafed, the exhausted gardens sag into their final season.
The end of September was a quiet time in Yellowstone National Park, and beautiful beyond words. Warm days, cold nights, golden aspen mixed among the dark ridges of pine.
The start of autumn turns my sights northward, recalling those glorious days of colorful melancholy in the falls we spent in Ohio. It almost makes bearable the anticipation of winter.