the lady autumn

 

Seven a.m., and the world is bathed in gilt edging from a liquid-gold sunrise. Every color in the valley is a few shades brighter, as if God gave the world a fresh paint job in the night, His brushstrokes still damp with dew; the shadows of the trees seem to stretch all the way to the western horizon in the low angular light. I breathe in, and I can smell the subtle sweetness of Autumn’s beautiful cruelty—threatening ever colder as the nights go by, and severing leaf by pale yellow leaf from its life-giving tree.

Lady Autumn is not a modest season. No, she is everything that is bold, daring, and dramatic—yet with a softness that cleverly disguises her ruthlessness. She is beautiful, even irresistible. I know that she brings death, that the world’s new vibrance is a mere cover-up for the monochrome veil she is about to draw. Yet I am entranced, I am bewitched—for she takes my breath away.

i’ve fallen in love

Like most girls, I have often wondered what it would be like to fall in love. You see it depicted in movies all the time… the guy doing some heroic deed and winning the girl’s heart and then the couple living happily ever after. But you never really see the process… what exactly occurs when someone “falls in love”? I’ve always wondered.

I think I’ve found out.

The winning act of heroics by Prince Charming is followed by a five-minute state of shock where your emotions sort of churn inside you, but something keeps them from exploding…for now. You stare in dumbfounded awe, mind racing to check for any loopholes or loose ends—did he really do that for you? Is it absolutely certain that he had no ulterior motive?

Once this phase of shock has passed, your emotions do nothing but explode. Squeals, bursts of laughter, tears, and fits of jumping up and down follow. The brain moves from its analytical mode to its completely-frozen mode, and absolutely no mental inhibitions hold back your emotions.

How do I know this?

Well—this week, I fell in love.

My Prince Charming is a quiet, unassuming gentleman. He has amazing artistic talents… they make me drool! I’m getting lightheaded just thinking about it. My brain keeps switching back and forth between the “OH MY GOSH, IS THIS REAL?” stage and the “OH MY GOSH, I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL!” stage.

Do you want to meet him?

I thought so.


Can you see him?


No? How about now?


Do I need to tell you?


His name is 50mm f/1.8 Nikkor Lens.

Yes, I just said that. I. Can’t. Believe. It.

My best friend in the whole wide world, Amanda, introduced me to him today. Love at first sight is SO real. We spent our honeymoon in Fred Meyer taking pictures of every Christmas product we could get in range… and then some. :)





Did I mention that I love him?


Not meaning any infidelity to my Prince Charming or anything, but I have to include a few of the ducks that I took using my old 55-200mm telephoto. Just because. :)


One more from Prince Charming…

We are most certainly going to have a blissful happily ever after. I’m seeing the world at an f-stop of 1.8… and it’s so beautiful.

the second right answer

 

I took my camera to the pond again.

And again, the ducks flew away long before I could even take aim.

I’m pretty sure I’m never going to get the photo shoot I want out of Harry and Hilda. They simply do not seem to want their portraits taken. Maybe they get tired of looking at their reflections in the pond or something??

However, not every question has only one correct answer; neither does every picture attempt have only one correct outcome. I didn’t get the ducks, but I kinda like what I did get.

Apparently Mr. and Mrs. H had been preening.

I like. How ’bout you?

I also like bright green moss that grows between paving stones, and creeping green plants that decide they want to sprawl across the sidewalk.

Looks almost (almost!!) like spring.

Hopefully it doesn’t decide to snow now that I said that…

wild goose chase

Well, not really a goose chase… more like a Mallard duck chase. Or we could generalize it to wild picture chase, because in the end, that’s what it all boils down to.

This is “Harry” and “Hilda.”

More likely, they are neighboring duplicates of “the” Harry and Hilda who frequent our pond, but my little sister doesn’t know that.

Ducks are really, really hard to take pictures of. Maybe not as bad as snipes or Virginia rails, but still… there is nothing more infuriating than creeping down to get a closeup shot, only to have them either swim away with arrogant grace (and they can swim so fast!) or explode from the water into panicked flight, never to be heard from again.


They also enjoy hiding their faces from the camera entirely. Sigh.



After failing to keep the ducks on the pond, I did some “fine art” type of photography in the barn. Not much there to be considered fine art, but I thought these shots of an old, idle halter turned out kinda cool.


It won’t be idle for too long, though, if spring comes as early as I hope it does. (Don’t tell Drem I said that!)