A November Walk in Colinton Dell

A Sunday walk, two dogs, a favourite path, and the way nature shifts quietly from summer to winter.

Today we walked in Colinton Dell. It was Sunday, the middle of November, and the weather finally cleared after days of rain. The air felt fresh again. The paths were muddy, the river was louder than usual, and the dogs were full of energy the moment we stepped out of the car.

I love this place. I come here often, and every time it looks a little different. In summer, the grasses and ferns grow tall and wild. Those ferns make the whole place feel like a small, magical world. Now everything has dropped down and folded into the ground. It is almost impossible to believe how quickly it disappears. I always stand there wondering where it all goes. But that is the beauty of this season. Everything returns to the soil so it can grow again in spring.

We walked slowly today. I had my Lensbaby lens with me and wanted to learn something new, practice a little, and see how the world looks through a different piece of glass. I love taking photos on my walks. It helps me notice small things — one yellow leaf still hanging on a branch, the curve of the river, the way the light sits on the wet stones. Walking and photographing makes me feel present. I am not rushing. I am not thinking about a list of things to do. I am simply there.

We also looked for our heron. We always call him “bociek,” even if he is not a stork. He stands in the same place by the river, tall and still, watching the water. Seeing him feels like meeting an old friend. I even have a heron cushion at home because of him.

The dogs loved every minute. They run, they look back at us, and they make sure we follow. And even when I walk with someone, there is always a small part of the walk that feels like mine — a moment to breathe, to think, to enjoy.

I took a few photos, played with the new lens, watched the dogs, watched the way the landscape is slowly changing. Simple things. But somehow they stay with me. Every path is familiar, and at the same time it never looks the same.

Do you have a place you return to again and again, just to watch how it changes?