I spent three refreshing high-desert days in Frenchglen, Oregon, last week, lodged at the historic Hotel. The quiet countryside, the animal and bird life, expansive views towards Steens Mountain, and John's family-style meals—each by itself is a reason to travel there, and they're unbeatable in combination.
I expected autumn's colors to be past their peak, and so they were. Aspen and cottonwood leaves were scarce, and from all accounts didn't attain the striking yellow-and-orange shades of seasons past. Hurried along by freezing nights, many simply acquiesced to their cyclic fate. The cottonwoods next to the hotel provided the colorful carpet pictured here, swirling about at the back door, a reminder that the best photo is oftentimes right at our feet.
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