There are thirty-one days of trees to give thanks for in October. This is a time for stepping carefully over the roots and rocks on the trail under trees, it's a time of gazing up. Leaves, they are here, only now. What I want is to witness the glory of treetops and above that, cloudless, shocking-bright blue. On my steps past the swampy wetlands I stop to admire the buttonbush and the berries and I can breathe here more deeply than anywhere. Three cardinal red round berries clump between two leaves, like wings, for a bird in flight. There are many good reasons to end a walk and head back home, but this morning I am lost in reverie, mud-footed and stunned.