Today marks the 300th consecutive day that I have been out and about during the rising light of dawn. There was no sun to be seen, but the glory of fall color makes up for the shrouded skies.
A pair of mallards took flight from the pond today, first I've seen any waterfowl out there for weeks. I also forgot to mention that I saw a beautiful white-tailed hawk yesterday (that is descriptive, not identifying - I don't know what kind of hawk it was). I'll have to start carrying binoculars again.
The tantalizing song of Reeds Brook rushing along the gully through these woods tempted me to walk down and gaze.
But - I have a busy day ahead, and my oversized rain boots do not give me good purchase on slippery leaves. Besides - there were the dogs, gathering on the other side of their electric fence line, wondering why I was leaving them behind. It's nice to know they're paying attention.
I will miss seeing nature's startling palette of color after the leaves have fallen. So many masterpieces of design, in arrangements both large and small. I try to catch some with the camera, but in the camera's lens they are altered and generally diminished. For any true preservation, I mostly have to hold them in my mind's eye.
This one, like many, stirred thoughts of storybook fancy. The old dead tree draped in twisting vines could be a backdrop for a scene from Sleepy Hollow.
The bright side of autumn's departures is that another of my favorite genres in nature's art gallery is arriving. The graceful, skyward-reaching branches and expressively twisted limbs of tree silhouettes are the coming event. I was sorry to see them disappear with the onset of spring's foliage, and here they are again, in a new unveiling.