The Right Place at the Right Time – 7 – End of Autumn

Autumn is a second spring 

when every leaf is a flower 

Albert Camus (1913-1960)

(However, once the leaves are on the ground and

they all must be raked and bagged, they are something else)

The Price of Living in the Woods (1996)

Recently, I saw something close to home that reminded me of a favorite picture that was posted in 2011 and prompted the title of this entry. In my typical fashion, here I am, with winter upon us, doing another autumn story. While the 2011 post had favorite shots from travels, I want to show one shot again in support of another way to capture autumn scenes.

Gingko Circles, Columbia, MD (16 November 2014)

I suspect even more than in the springtime, people break out their cameras in the fall to capture the colors of nature. While spring can bring splashes of color with flowers, autumn can make entire landscapes and vistas colorful.

My point is that one doesn’t need trees to convey ‘autumn’. After all, the trees don’t change color...the leaves do. After that, they drop to the ground. Maybe that’s why they call it ‘fall’. The picture above, taken last month, shows four ginkgo trees just after they dropped all their leaves. Fortunately, apart from what the passing cars did, there was no wind to scatter the fallout.

One can make an image that says ‘autumn’ and not have a tree in it. One bright red leaf on a bed of fresh, green moss or a few colorful leaves floating on the edge of a pond will do it. There are times when I just want to shoot the collected leaves on the forest floor at my feet.

Autumn Ground Cover (23 November 2007)

Most of the trees around here change color and drop their leaves over time. In a few weeks, the full canopies of our hardwoods thin out and drift to the ground. Most homeowners then perform the seasonal ritual of blowing or raking and bagging. This can be a seasonal pleasure or a pain in the ass depending on your perspective and the condition of your lower back at the time.

Our lot is dominated by tulip polar trees. They are straight, tall and perpetually deciduous. Crap falls off this miserable species all year round. There are petals, pods and other flower parts in the spring, misty sap and sick leaves in the hot summer, a bleep-load of leaves in the fall and dead branches in the winter. But I digress...

Another Tulip Poplar Missile (5 February 2014)

Welcome to our home.

Please put on your hard hat.

However, some trees seem to be on a tighter schedule. Like the local gingko’s shown above, Japanese maple trees pretty much let go of their leaves all at once. All summer, our tree is full of dark, delicate leaves. Then one week in the fall, they turn bright red. Enjoy them while you can because one day, like a flock of migrating ducks, someone gives them the signal and they all fall off. Boom.

The ‘right place, right time’ reference is to note that a calm period is required so the leaves all fall straight down and carpet a circle under the tree instead of being blown hither and yon. We have lots of different trees here and the winds will blend everything that falls off them. It’s a rare treat to have the distinctive leaves of certain trees concentrated in one spot.

This happened on Thanksgiving in 2010. We were in Chapel Hill, NC. Jack and Jo live in the woods and their Japanese maple gave up its leaves after a chilly night...and there was no wind to blow them away or mix them with the fallout from all the other trees in the area. The result was special and I was lucky to capture the scene before the colors faded to brown and the leaves scattered across the woods.

Red Maple Fallout (27 November 2010)

This will be the last post of the year. With the presidents’ graves schedule accelerating my output, it was the most productive year since this blogging adventure began in 2011. The next broad quest to present will be our state capitols. I have visited 44 to date but have presented only five. My hope in the New Year is to present compelling images of these magnificent public spaces and include pithy narratives to keep it lively.

Have a safe and happy holiday and a promising 2015.
Thanks for visiting.

Places – 7- Mt. Shasta, California

Between the post-election blues and pre-holiday nonsense, the once-brisk blogging pace has slowed. Then I saw a favorite shot that was framed on the wall and thought it was time to recall an adventure from the film days.

In June of 1998, we headed west for another bowling tournament in Reno. We added some days to the trip to drive into northern California. The landscape there is nothing like it is in the arid south. Here, California looks more like Oregon.

Black Butte (1 June 1998)

Extruded at the foot of Mt. Shasta, the lava dome 

was created about 10,000 years ago.

We are at the southern end of the Cascade Volcanic Arc, a string of active volcanos that extend 700 miles north to British Columbia. At over 14,000 feet, Mt. Shasta is the second tallest after Mt. Rainier but it is the biggest in terms of volume. Since it is such a huge presence in the area and an active volcano, the mountain has held spiritual significance for as long as humans have been around it. Modern ‘New Agers’ swarmed the place in 1987 because Mt. Shasta is a global “power center”...a primo, high energy spot to effect the ‘Harmonic Convergence’ that was conducted world-wide that August.

Mt. Shasta, CA (1 June 1998)

We arrived in the afternoon and spent the night, soaking up the aura of the place. With our Ch’i, mojo and Feng Shui all topped off by morning, we headed up the mountain...at least as far as the road would take us. Flatlanders should understand that winter lasts longer at altitude. Going up is the same as going north. Before we even hit the tree line and the tundra zone, the road was dramatically closed because the snow was still too deep to plow...in June...in California.

Mt. Shasta, End of the Line (1 June 1998)

Instead of turning back, we parked and wandered around. Hikers and climbers were camped there and you could see the rest of the mountain looming above the last trees. After driving (slowly and safely) up the mountain for an hour, it was impressive to see how much more mountain there was.

That’s when I took this picture...the money shot of the visit. Put on a wide angle lens or back up (but not too far), and you have just another picture of a snow-capped mountain. But put on the telephoto lens and zoom in on a small portion of that massive slope and you might have something. I really enjoy playing with a zoom lens and a single-lens reflex camera where I can look through the viewfinder and see just what’s being shot. I pan around and zoom in and out until something pleasing like this shows up.

Mt. Shasta Detail (1 June 1998)

The light, the silhouettes of trees, the curves and shades that might suggest other things, the uniform texture of the slope from the wind or skiers, all contribute to the image. I believe it is striking because the upper, background portion of the image, which our minds think should be sky, is not.

Mt. Shasta Detail (1 June 1998)

So, I’m not sure if this is a ‘Tip of the Day’ post – crop and compose with the zoom lens...or a ‘Right Place at the Right Time’ entry because later in the year, the snow would be gone...and earlier, one couldn’t get to this vantage point. Regardless, I am grateful to have been where I was, when I was...with the camera in hand.