I rounded up some pictures of leaves and trees and still life for a Sunday morning for you.
From time to time on my mangrove walks with Rusty I see a color that stands out in the sea of green.
It's just another mangrove leaf, one that is filled with with filtered salt from the water and is ready to drop:
The red mangroves don't really follow seasons. They sacrifice leaves year round, absorbing sea water and sending the salt to the leaves which turn yellow and die individually as they overload.
Brackish water isn't necessarily brown or dirty looking. The word just means tainted with sea water.
Red mangroves have red roots, characteristic of the plant. They spread like alien life forms.
Buttonwoods live further from the waterline and act like "proper" trees growing out of dirt. I love their green bushiness against a classic blue winter sky:
I used to hate dealing with seagrapes in my yard always dumping massive stiff dead dinner plates on the ground, huge brown disks that defied raking and had to be loaded into trash cans one armful at a time. Hard labor is the seagrape. But when its not your plant you get to enjoy the veins and the shades of red purple green and brown, and if the birds have left you any you can sometimes eat a grape or two, small and purple and filled with a huge stone inside.
Mahogany trees, these (and Jamaica dogwoods) are my favorites, lots of shade, arching branches and hurricane survivors usually.
I snag flowers from time to time to test my macro patience with the camera. And because they are pretty.
Gumbo limbo silhouette. You can grow a tree by cutting off a twig and sticking it in soil. They are perfect for black thumbed people like me. Plus they have intense twirling trunks that wrist and arch like a tree in pain. These are trees I like to lie under and look up at the sky through their twisted branches and bright green leaves. They call them tourist trees because their bark is red and peeling ut they are so much more.