Shades of Yellow

‘Starved Rock’; Ah! the name itself conjures up images of long forgotten battles and bloody sieges that you read about in the pages of history. It was an unseasonably warm autumn day when we left for the state park,  stocked up with food and armed with enough cameras to put even the most dedicated paparazzi to shame. The drive itself was uneventful; the only excitement being provided by the beautiful fall colored trees lining the highway on both sides. We drove past empty fields waiting for the winter snow, past golden yellow corn fields ripe and ready for harvest, past giant machines (harvesters) sitting like prehistoric beasts ready to devour their prey, past quintessentially American farm houses, pickup truck dutifully parked in the front; across the surprisingly wide Illinois river sparkling in the late morning sun dotted with boats trying to make most of the last good day for sailing before winter sets in.

Entering the park, we were greeted with all kinds of colors; not really the variety that we were interested in though! A full parking lot choc-a-bloc with cars! We were surprised by the huge crowds that had gathered there; perhaps enjoying the last warm day before the temperature dipped again we reasoned.

After a light but tasty lunch of sandwiches and cakes we set off on foot to explore the park. Poison-ivy trees lined the trail with warning signs besides them. Pine, maple, fig all kinds of flora were visible-a true botanist delight. A short climb led us to the bluffs overlooking the Illinois River, undoubtedly the most scenic spot in the entire park. But we had to contend with not just the milling crowds with people jostling for space to capture that perfect camera angle but dogs of all shapes and sizes-it was all too crowded sometimes. We continued on the trail past red colored trees lined with brightly colored wild flowers, stopping sometimes to capture a close up shot. The trail led us to French Canyon where the afternoon sun filtering through the dense foliage of yellow colored leaves washed everything in shades of yellow creating a scene of ethereal beauty. Moving on we wound up on the beguilingly named Lovers Leap, the spot on the opposite end of the bluff we had stood on just a few minutes back. Finally with an eye on the clock, we hurried back, our pace quickened not just by the downward slope but also by the impending dusk accentuated by the dense foliage overhead. After resting for a few minutes we were back in our cars, our thoughts about the week ahead but like a fancy camera that alters the hue of a photo, the mental image of the yellowish light that cast a strange unearthly light on the way to French Canyon stuck in my mind for a long time. In the words of the celebrated American naturalist, John Muir “In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks” How true!