When I see an aspen grove aflame with the colors of autumn, I feel invited to walk among the trees and take in its golden glow.  In Utah, the conditions in 2001 were not the best;  there was a freak snowstorm in spring that burned some of the new growth.  But there were small pockets of color.  I found one near Kolob reservoir on a sunny afternoon drive.  As the sun sank lower in the sky this grove lit up in billowy columns of fiery yellows, in the supportive embrace of a passel of slender, black-flecked trunks with the texture of soft, creamy satin.  

The depth and complexity of pattern in an aspen forest creates a magical pull that draws me in to explore and appreciate what it has to offer.  When I leave there is a sensation of passing through a mysterious boundary.  Something seems to stay behind, a feeling without words that can only be experienced while among the trees.