My Dot on the Map: Homesick

I was browsing my Reader and there were so many beautiful photos of fall color that I got a tinge of homesickness – longing for Michigan color. We drove to southern Florida last weekend – before the peek color in Michigan. I made the decision to go south because cold, cloudy, damp weather was forecasted for the week in Michigan and my body doesn’t do well in those conditions. However, Florida is unseasonably warm so I am unable to get out with my camera until the weekend cool down. I made the right decision but I still need to pull out some of the color photos I took before I left.

Evening sun turning soybeans golden.

Evening sun turning soybeans golden.

Early color reflected in Concord Millpond

Early color reflected in Concord Millpond

Dirt road by Railroad Trestle

Dirt road by Railroad Trestle

There, now I feel a little better. These transitions are sometimes hard to adjust to because I love being in both places – and sometimes the grass is greener and the trees more colorful at the other latitude.

 

 

 

Last Walk in the Woods

Yesterday I gathered up my camera and headed out for a walk and to get some more fall color. I walked down the road to see if the horses were out so I could explore the world of animal photography. Even though the sun was shining and the temperature was very pleasant, they decided they would prefer to be in the barn. Horse photography is now something to look forward to next year.

As I started walking back, I saw a lane I had never noticed before – heading up through some woods. I love walking in the woods, especially in the fall so I had to explore.

There were leaves on the tire paths, and patches of color among the lower green of the underbrush. What fun smelling the musty smell of dying leaves while feeling the cool fall air, and looking for ways to capture the beauty of the whole. Sometimes trying to capture all that we see means that we loose so many of the details that the eye picks up.

Competing with all the small patches of color along the way that I captured from multiple angles, there was also the excitement, nervousness, curiosity of what lies ahead on a trail that is not posted as private but also not public.

As I rounded a bend, I realized that there were two houses back here so I took a couple of photos of plants and left as quietly as I arrived so as to not attract attention or disturb their privacy.

I am always amazed that walking back along the same path can seem like an entirely new place. Seeing the same things from a different perspective can be like seeing them for the first time. Maybe I need to make sure that I turn around and see the other side of more aspects of my life.

And then I started the walk back to the main road. I could tell that the wind was picking up or maybe it was feeling more threatening because I could see the dark clouds rolling in. I wasn’t worried because I wasn’t too far from home but I also knew I shouldn’t dawdle.

Of course there were many pictures that were part of my “learning curve”. Ones that didn’t turn out as exciting as they were when I framed them in my viewfinder. Ones that just weren’t as exciting when I took them out of their surroundings. And of course the ones where I got the settings wrong or the wind was blowing too hard, or I moved too much. But taking those are also fun. As I reached the road I noticed the corner post of the fence that surrounds the horse farm. I hadn’t seen it the first time I walked past – or the hundreds of times I drove past it in my car.

It has been here a long time because it leans; this isn’t an example of my crooked picture taking.¬†Isn’t life wonderful when we can continually see new things in our neighborhood.

As I turned down the street towards my house, I was struck by the signs that winter is on it’s way. There are many trees that have lost all their leaves and the clouds are hanging heavier these days. We are also noting how much shorter the days have been. I have been thinking that it is later than it actually is in the evening because it is already dark out.

This confirms that it is time to take this old body to warmer parts. We leave for Florida in the morning. As I was turning the bend towards our driveway, I got a last image of the most beautiful view in the neighborhood. Even though I am eager to see the tropical¬†foliage awaiting me, I am sad about leaving the last of the fall color. You can be sure that I’ll not miss a single tree as we travel through Ohio, Kentucky & Tennessee.

A Little More Fall Color

I just couldn’t resist the urge. Us folk in the northern half of the US & Canada, too, never seem to get tired of fall color. I have lived through many, many falls and still marvel at the wonder of this miracle. Although I think the leaves are getting smaller or maybe not as many trees because I remember kicking my way through leaves up to my knees as I walked to school.

Anyway, this morning I went for a walk with my camera to record the vibrant colors in the early sun (okay, not so early sun). I started with the trees in my neighbor’s yard – the ones I see outside my kitchen window. Almost makes me want to wash dishes.

This is the scene as I go down the hill and turn the corner.

But this morning, I decided to turn in the other direction to see what was happening there. Here are my favorites.

As I was walking back up the steep hill towards the house, I couldn’t resist the needles from the white pines by a neighbor’s gate. They drop so many and they make excellent mulch for acid-loving plants.

Floral Friday – Walk in the Park

Yesterday morning I took a walk in one of our local parks. I was looking for single specimens of fall color and the park boarders a golf course, the perfect place for what I was looking for.

 

I liked this next one because of the strong vertical lines.

While walking around, I had one of those magic moments. I felt like I had traveled into another space even though I had only walked a few steps. I was under the canopy of a large oak so there was lots of light and openness but also the enclosed feeling of being in the woods. The yellow leaves on the ground from the neighboring trees cast a golden glow. I stopped to feel the wonder of this space.

I soon realized that I wasn’t alone. Obviously I had interfered with the important work of storing acorns for the winter. This little critter was scolding me and watching me very carefully. It is probably a good thing I don’t understand squirrel language.