It's the season of lost, but often soon found

I knew we had made the full transition to a new season when I saw the beige stocking cap hanging in a young maple last weekend.

It is the season of hats and gloves and mittens hanging in trees. The season will last through May.

I was on a walk in the woods near my home when I saw the stocking cap. It had been hung about head-high on a bare branch. All of us know what that means. Somewhere, someone is rummaging through that hat basket at home, wondering where the favorite beige stocking cap went.

"I know I had it," she's saying. "I remember I wore it the other day on my walk."

But now it's nowhere to be found. That's because it's hanging in the maple tree, near to where the next hiker who came along saw it lying on the trail. Whoever that kind soul was, he or she picked up the cap and hung it carefully in the tree. It's common practice in the North. We all assume the rightful owner of the cap will come along again, spy the cap and enjoy a sweet reunion.

You see these wayward hats and mittens and gloves in trees all winter, wherever people walk dogs or run or cross-country ski. No one tells us to hang these hats and gloves there. It's just what we do. We're Minnesotans. We know, if it had been our cap or glove, that we'd likely be down that trail again. We'd be awfully happy to see our old friend hanging in the tree, waiting to be reclaimed.

It is a fortunate coincidence that the leaves have all fallen from the trees about the same time we start losing our mittens. It wouldn't be easy to hang a glove or mitten on a fully leafed maple.

In more civilized surroundings, where trees are scarce, we just place the lost item on parking meters or road signs or trailside maps. The point, in a northern winter, is to get it up off the ground so the next snowfall doesn't bury it. If that happens, the item is lost until spring. By that time, the original owner will have replaced it.

I'll have to say I like living in a place where people usually do the right thing when they come upon a lost hat or glove. It seems to be some code of the North that we wouldn't think of absconding with a lost hat. It isn't ours.

A left-behind glove or mitten has even more going for it. One glove is of no particular value to a finder, so we leave it for the poor soul who still has its mate at home.

As I continued on my walk, I came upon a white wool glove in a tree near a Superior Hiking Trail trailhead. The next day, I saw a single black glove hanging in a tree. 'Tis the season.

There is, as far as I know, no statute of limitations on when a hanging hat or a missing mitten might legally be claimed by someone other than the original owner. Nope. Just leave it there.

Next spring, some robin or sparrow or raven is going to need nesting material.

Sam Cook is a Duluth News Tribune columnist and outdoors writer. Reach him at (218) 723-5332 or scook@duluthnews.com . Follow him on Twitter at twitter.com/samcookoutdoors or on Facebook at "Sam Cook Outdoors."