Fall City, Granite Falls, Falling in Love with Fall, Part 2

This is Part 2 of a post I began months ago. For a refresher of Part 1, please go here. Hint, there were cool pictures of horses' heads poking out from a barn.

Given it has been so long since the earlier post, this post will be a little disjointed. Mainly pictures.

Do Woolly Worms predict Winter's severity? I sure don't know, but I wasn't taking any chances. I avoided every one I came across. Then, I got down for a closer look. Legend has it that it is the size or color of that middle band that is the tell-all. Clearly, this one has a rather funky middle band, don't you think?

Eventually, I figured why not just ask him/her. This tiger moth caterpillar, the proper term, didn't answer but just balled up when I queried. Maybe that is the answer. Maybe he/she was telling me I better curl up this year. I don't have a control from another milder year to compare/contrast, so who knows? Now that we've had our Winter, mostly, did this little furry guy correctly predict for us?

These fellows weren't saying either.

OK, if you squint and look for two narrow reddish-orange fishy-looking things in the middle of this photo you'll spy two spawning Sockeye salmon. They certainly know Winter is on its way, whatever the severity.

At the Alaska in Pictures website, they have this picture below of a spawning Sockeye.

Fall Flowers.

But here, I do remember what I was going to say. This is the Skykomish River looking downstream toward Two Bits, an old Steelhead fishing hole of mine and many others.

Here's the Sky looking upstream. All this Fall day moodiness and fishy-smelliness reminds me of my old fishing pal, Boz (no, I didn't mean to say he is moody or fish-smelly). Sadly for me, he moved to New York. It was understandable, as he and his wife needed to be back East with grandkids and such. But I sure do miss fishing or plotting to go fishing or reminiscing about fishing with Boz.

Remember these old Northwest, fishy haunts, Bozzie? Of course you do. You are nothing if not a genuine adventure-is-just-around-the-corner kind of guy. I love that spirit, and we had some times together. I learned Steelhead fishing at your wadered knee, and I loved it all. Best to you and yours in New York. And don't bother with getting all the facts straight as you regale your kith and kin of all your Northwest fishing legends. Facts don't matter, but the spirit of exploring our natural world with good friends sure does! Tight lines, buddy!

 Here, I came along this beaver-chawed tree right along the roadside. I guessed the "X" meant this tree was designated by the authorities for removal. Or could it be the beavers mark their trees first?



Here is my bike for scale. This is one large tree this ambitious beaver was taking on. On a later ride, the tree was gone, neatly sliced off by a chain saw. Efficient, but not nearly as charming.

Keep it spirited,

CurioRando