I found a desiccated maple leaf while sweeping the patio. It was this season’s leaf fallen months before its time. It still held some green, but had fallen weeks ago and lay flat on the moist bricks and was eventually covered by the bay leaves that perpetually fall to the ground. The current state of the leaves still holding onto the tree are bronze and crisp.The small leaf I placed next to the healthy foot-wide wide specimen is a toasty brown. It too has faded, but not much from the bright burnt sienna/ bronze color it held when it was still on the dying tree. It turned a dull umber when it died prematurely and fell off the canopy onto our back deck. It would be one of the last of the piles that had filled our decks and patio each Autumn for over three decades.

When waterlilies on the lakes of America’s northwoods die out in the fall, a little lake, barely more than a pond reveals a secret, a mystery unresolved. Tiny freshwater lakes such as this one can appear on maps as drops of wilderness within growing grids of expanding density. One could wonder why every one of them isn’t already encircled with boat docks, and paddle boats, and houses set just right for the view. But many lakes in America’s northwoods are still pristine, with the appearance of ancient places. This is a story about one little lake in an area where maps still show large sections of green to indicate the predominance of forests and parks.