Wednesday afternoon, around four, somewhere on the path between Rinker's Rock and Kitchens Lane Bridge.
Young beech trees keep their leaves far into winter. Walk down into the park from Park Line Drive and you are soon deep into a grove of tulip poplars. Interspersed among their great trunks are the lithe bodies of young beeches vying for their bit of sun on the crowded slopes. They lend copper to overwhelming gray, and when the wind picks up, as it is doing on this afternoon, a constant scratchy rustling against the whooshing of greater branches overhead.