The openness of the land calls to me. I was planning on exploring woodlands. As I walked along the field edge, swamp on my right, I saw a low area that I hadn't paid any attention to before. Not more than 20 feet across it went from grass to willow to cattails and back again. Could there possibly be anything there that I hadn't already seen in the hours I had prowled the wild areas of Camphill? I wouldn't know if I didn't go and see. The ground was dry except for the very center where it was deep enough for cattails. Grasses and sedges crowded the edges. Watching carefully as I stepped, I notice a small plant hidden under all the other foliage. A tiny yellow blossom, more of a bud, caught my eye. A closer examination, several photos, and I was clueless. Later research would reveal a name I hadn't known before, Purple Stemmed Beggarticks. A late season bloomer, overshadowed by falls browning foliage, makes walking through a small wetland in the field worth the trip.

After such success I continued to explore the open edges. No more firsts revealed themselves, but new land under my feet makes me happy. Asters now outnumber the goldenrods. Tamaracks are starting to turn golden. The cold temps will soon encourage the rest of the leaves to turn and fall. One last blaze of color before the white of winter...