Our fall has continued dry, yet yesterday morning I awoke to a thickness of fog hanging in the air. I grabbed my camera and drove about five miles north to one of our urban lakes. The further north I went the thinner the fog, until I arrived at the lake with blue skies and a beautiful sunrise. I was a bit bummed that I wasn’t getting the fog that I was hoping for, but I continued to photograph the lake and the fall colors. After about 30 minutes the setting changed, and the fog enveloped the far shore, then rolled across the lake from south to north. The atmosphere was just what I was hoping for. As I waited the fisherman moved closer to the point and I made this image. Two minutes later the fog had thickened even more and the fisherman was not visible and the even the reflections were hidden behind the fog. As fleeting and unpredictable as it can be, I love the ethereal and softening effect that fog can give to an image.
fall
Autumn brights
Our cool nights and warm days earlier this week provided the perfect recipe for bright autumn colors. With a blue sky and a sidelight provided by a rising sun, I knew this tree would be brilliant. The colors were intense and the leaves that were already on the ground provided a subtle crunch as I walked around the grove of trees to frame this image. What you don’t see is that I was right next to a busy street during morning rush hour, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the people passing by were aware of this brilliant display that Mother Nature was providing. I hope they paused for a brief moment to appreciate the colors, to be aware of the smells of fall, and to know that it is all fleeting as winter will soon be on the heels of autumn.
Late summer’s cosmos
Almost as if a switch had been thrown, our weather changed from excessive summer heat to below normal temperatures. With lows in the 50’s at night and highs only in the 60’s and 70’s we had a real hint of the end of summer. Life has sped up knowing that fall can’t be far away, and although we may have hot temperatures again during the daytime, the nights will cool off considerably as our hours of daylight shorten. Knowing this made these beautiful pink cosmos seem even more special when I found them in a wonderful garden today. Their lightness was a reminder of the carefree feeling of summer – enjoy it now because it’s fleeting, soon to be followed by the deeper smells and rich colors of autumn.
Mother Nature’s gift
This past week I headed south to the Kansas City area to spend Thanksgiving with my family. I left the Twin Cities with two inches of snow on the ground and a temperature of about 24 degrees. After an hour or so the sun broke through the clouds and I found myself looking repeatedly at the landscape and trying to understand what I was seeing. With the low angle of the sun and some of the distant dark clouds the trees seem to take on a white appearance. I knew it wasn’t snow and yet it seemed that it was too late in the day for frost. After about 30 minutes of craning my neck from side to side I pulled off the interstate to look more closely. As I got out of my car I realized there was a thick layer of hoarfrost coating the trees and other plants. It was beautiful the way the sun was glistening off the frost. I was in the farmlands of southern Minnesota and the browns of the fields and the golden grasses all made a wonderful contrast to the sparkling frost. Within about 30 minutes the sun disappeared, the winds picked up, and the beauty that I had stopped to appreciate was gone. This was my start to a week of thankfulness: for nature’s moments that are given if we only stop to notice, for health that we too often take for granted, for family and for friends, both near and far.
On the wing
The days are shorter. The nights are colder. The first snow of the season has fallen. And our lakes are starting to ice over as we begin to slide into winter. Along with all these changes there is an increase in the activity of the ducks and geese. One of my favorites sights and sounds is a flock of Canada geese flying overhead — the beat of their wings and their honking is music to my ears. Since I live between Lake Como and the agricultural fields of the University of Minnesota I am on the path of the geese flying from the water at the lake to the food at the agricultural crops at the U. So many times I am stopped in my tracks to look up and appreciate their flight overhead. I know that soon enough the majority of geese and ducks will have migrated south to warmer climes and we will return to the hush and quiet of the snow and the cold of winter. In this week of Thanksgiving, the geese and their winged flight are one of the many things I appreciate and am thankful for.
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