There is a really special time of year around here where the weather begins to cool and the trees are cued to start to turn and prepare for their winter sleep. We always have a few weeks of a second summer – it gets cold and then we hit a week of gorgeous summer weather. This halts the leaves and it’s like they wait for that time to pass so they can explode into rich, glowing reds, oranges, yellows at every depth and brightness.
It’s the moment before everything begins to hunker down for the winter. I love it more than any other time of year.
A favourite of mine. It always makes me feel so peaceful, getting to witness nature work her magic turning summer into fall.
I came upon some photos I took last fall. I don’t remember the colours being so vibrant but wow, I’m glad I didn’t delete this folder without flipping through the files first. 🙂
…and then there’s the lake……
These all bring on a feeling of silence and peace; just the wind in the trees and the soft lapping water as the gentle tide pulls the waterline back from the land.
Here, I could stay forever. Aren’t photos incredible? The moment of the memory captured with the image. Pure magic.
A little digital magic makes the scene dance with light. Fun ways to spend a few minutes making something no one has ever seen.
I wish I could project my words this way, visual to anyone who wanted to see. Photos are another form of words I suppose. There is something wonderful about everyone being able to interpret what the see without my own thoughts and emotions clouding or guiding their own.
I constantly wonder why I am so drawn to things like this building. I will be sitting in the passenger seat of the truck, out on a weekend with the family, and I’ll see something like this building in the distance and my entire being calls me to stop, capture, analyze.
Sometimes I think it’s because I see beauty where others may not and I’m full of myself enough to think I can show what I see. Sometimes I rationalize that the state of the place makes me think they’ll tear it down sometime soon and that lack of permanence makes me want to capture it before it’s gone.
Things being there and then suddenly being gone; particularly when I least expect it, has always been a *thing* for me. People, family, places, memories; it messes with me to realize that nothing is forever and nothing is ever guaranteed.
If I could wrangle a promise out of the universe that things would just stay the same for a day, I would be willing to sacrifice quite a bit. Finding that balance in life is hard for me and for many others, I realize, so maybe I’m just making sure that these things; places; buildings that were once loved and called home to someone, are never totally relegated to the pile of dust and then empty space they will eventually become.
Like a memorial stone in a graveyard, my photos can keep something alive, in a way, that might vanish from the world at any moment. Once a few years pass and people move on, no one will even remember that this house once existed.
(It just dawned on me why I take photos of myself and save them, although I rarely share them with anyone. *chills*)
The winter season is when I tend to stay indoors more often so my camera doesn’t get to go on as many outings as it does in warmer weather. This day, I was just going grocery shopping but decided to take my camera along.
I’ll find myself thinking that winter is ‘bland’ through the lens, unless you’re shooting something specific, because it’s either dead, brown twigs that used to be lush green trees, mucky slop on the roads mixed with sand and salt from the plows or pure, blinding snow.
Bland or otherwise, I went out with my camera and without even trying I pulled over at various spots along my drive and captured the things that caught my eye.
There is something complex and lovely about the way that winter looks, even though the colours are not as vibrant and everything is half hidden by snow.
It was then I realized that winter was just as lovely as summer. I had been missing so many chances to capture beautiful scenes around me that would only ever exist once.
So here’s to blindingly white snow, half-dead looking twigs and stems and the biting cold wind that ices and frosts everything in its path.
One of the best things about photography is that there are no mistakes. Of course, there are a lot of techniques and many ‘rules’ to follow if you want to take a photograph that meets professional standards or if it’s what you do for a living, but when it’s just for the love of the art itself; capturing a moment in time that becomes a visual memory that you can share with the world…..no rules apply. Everything can be beautiful when you’re holding the camera.
Watching animal mates stick together always warms my heart. These two were taking turns hunting and sharing whatever snacks they found. One would take off and the other would sit, patiently waiting for the other to return. Their body language looked like love to me. Keeping each other warm and full; weathering the storm together as one.
It’s no secret that I find broken, abandoned or particularly decrepit things that were once loved by someone very alluring. I don’t really understand what draws me to them, but I suspect it’s the want to create a record of it so it is no longer forgotten. Even if no one is taking care of it anymore, everything is still beautiful in some way ….maybe even more so than shiny new things that have never weathered a storm or seen a family grow, part ways; to see new owners come though with hope and dreams in their hearts; never stood against the frozen battering of the winter or relentless heat of the summer.
Someone lived here once. I don’t know if they were happy or bitter; loved or abandoned; healthy or ill. I don’t know if there were kids that once played around this house or family pets that ran free, always coming when they were called. I have no idea if someone ugly and cruel holed up in this place, hidden away keeping their bitterness with society tucked away inside. No matter what happened, something happened here once and now the only evidence of occupation left behind is the old building itself that no longer serves any purpose at all.
I like giving it a purpose, even if for only the quick snap of my camera shutter.