Sycamore bark

We're in a bit of a warming trend and this morning, the temperature never got below freezing so my walk was relatively comfortable. I didn't even have to worry about the camera freezing. The air was still. The only sounds came from the leaves hitting the ground and their colleagues, who had already joined the leaf litter congregation. With much of the deciduous foliage off the trees, you can see what you've been missing since the leaves emerged last May. One of the sights I've been drawn to recently has been tree bark, the color and texture of which is something I'm trying to cement into my head in my effort to finally learn tree identification. This one's easy: Sycamore. Since there's really nothing like its mottled, exfoliating bark, Sycamore is a species that I mastered early in my quest. Members of the Platanus occidentalis clan are river bottom trees and quite happy growing by the millpond dam—old friends on my route. Old handsome friends, and now, with the leaves largely gone, old visible friends.