23 May 13. As humans, our anthropomorphic tendencies are often hard to overcome, and such was the case as I walked along a stream paralleling HWY 189 which in reality was most likely the other way around. I had pulled off road to enjoy the view and encountered a local who was there preparing to wet a line in anticipation of catching a few trout for the evening meal. When I told him from whence I had come, he said he was very familiar with the area having served his missionary work in Tacoma, which just made me laugh to think how small our world really is at times. As he could pronounce Puyallup correctly, I knew he wasn't just making idle conversation. I asked about the fishing and he said it was really good, having caught 16 the last trip out. Our conversation rambled and in the course of it he mentioned that that day was his birthday, so he was very cognizant of the weather on that date in his history, and that contrary to what I had been hearing, the winter was not late or lingering more so this year than any other nor was it any worse. After a polite bit of conversation, he meandered down to the stream's edge and I along a trail enjoying the view. It was at that point in my wandering that I wondered if the fish were enjoying it as much as was I, at least until they made that fatal slip, and took the bait. The aspect of the scenery that most caught my eye was the red bark of the bushes, and as it did not record a vibrantly as did my eye, I've enhanced it a bit as well as added in a small amount of texture to bring out the crispness of the various colored leaves. I would imagine that if I had been there a week later the chlorophyll would have been fully deployed and all I would have gotten was various shades of green. Now we know what fall will look like. May have to return then and see what I can get. Nikon D300s; 18 - 200; Aperture Priority; ISO 200; 1/400sec @ f / 8.