First Frost

Well, at least the first morning frost for which

 I was up before sunrise.

The icy edging decorated these leaves

lying in the gutter just outside 

my workplace.

I Just Liked It ...

At Least It's Not Buffalo

There the snow is so deep that it broke through doors, 

pouring into people's homes. Here we got

a mere brushstroke, one that swept white across

our landscape. The snow brought new

contrast to the red and faint greens of this bush.

It is nearly gone now, melted from the bright sun,

with warmer temperatures forecast

for the weekend. There will be rain to melt

the remaining snow. Once again, good for us but

not so great for the people in Buffalo,

who will have to cope with floods caused

by the melting mass of snow.

Stars in the Detritus

Storms last night brought us another sunny day. 

The trees' bare branches reached upward,

towards puffy clouds scudding across a bright blue sky. 

Melting snow packs on the streets and sidewalks 

revealed the blackened leaves from fall. 

I tried to get a shot of gleaming of drops of water, 

but only got the starry points of sunlight -

one, two, three, four, dancing above the leaves.

Textured Tuesday: Precursor?

When leaves fall onto the pavement. I find myself fascinated by 

the imprints they leave when the rain blows them away.

Sometimes the mark is the silhouette they made as the rain fell

around them, while others gather the sediment the water

washes along the pavement, leaving muddy little prints.

It's almost a precursor to the time, a bunch of eons away, when 

someone finds a broken rock, revealing the image

of a fossilized leaf inside. 

Caught in the Act

Thursday night's rain storm blew all but the most determined 

of leaves to the ground. A berry bush that edges a parking lot had

its leaves and fruit strewn all around its base.

While already grounded, the leaves in the top picture appeared

to arrange themselves as though falling.

The leaves below were balanced by the few red

berries arcing away from the stem.

Gold and Salt

Last night, I left the Natatorium after a swim and 

came home with nada for today's post. For the past couple weeks, 

the weather has been hot. In the mid-90s hot. 

The light is funny, too, sort of bright and flat most of the day. 

I haven't found many nice pictures to take as a result 

and have passed opportunities because of the light - flat with little contrast. 

This morning, I took some shots of the parking lot a couple blocks away. 

At this time of the season, the trees are beginning to tire, their leaves fading 

and drooping a bit from their earlier rich, robust green selves.

Some are starting to fall away. Their tasks are done and they

cast their golden selves upon the ground, sometimes

creating little highlights on cracks in the pavement.

Sun-Jeweled

I reached the Coke Field around noon, 

hoping to be able to see turtles basking on rocks 

in the creek. However much I tried to be quiet,

my footfalls still sounded like explosions

on the gravel approach to the bridge, while

walking on the grass was almost as loud.

The only part of a turtle I've seen so far is the

backside of its shell as it glided into the concentric

circles made as it dived into the water,

and this time was no different.

I leaned against the bridge railing to look

at the water as it flowed over the rocks in the creek,

looking at each likely looking rock, hoping

it was a turtle. There were none, but the beauty

of the sun as it was reflected by the ripples

was enough to capture my interest.

For whatever reason, I like the colors of the rocks 

and moss. Stray leaves, trapped underwater, 

accentuate the patterns of the creek's flow over the rocks,

with the sun's light sparkling like liquid jewels

on a silken tapestry.

Back in the Sticks

There I was, just walking along the street, wondering where 

I might find a picture, when buried among the twigs and branches 

of a tall bit of shrubbery, I saw these fresh bits 

of red and green leaves emerging from their long winter

to perform their seasonal duties. 

365 Days Apart

I thought I was finished with my book, but I wasn't.

 I'd replaced a number of my pictures because the originals 

weren't of sufficient quality and re-wrote the captions to match. 

I've been expecting a payment that would allow me 

to pay for the remaining pictures. It hasn't arrived. 

In the meantime, contracts have been rewritten to change 

the invoices so we can get our pictures. It's not hard, 

but it is a pain in the ass. I want to be out taking pictures. 

The top picture was taken November 10, 2010, while 

the second was taken November 10 of last year.

Cold and Wet Day, I'm Inside

Leaves are given their beauty by nature, 

they change color, fall into pleasing compositions,

 attracting sequins and light to emphasize

all their best features. 

Lighted Edges

That, and the negative space are the reasons

I posted this picture. I guess people in the

Speedway area are getting used to me

because no one said, "Lady,

what the fuck are you looking at?"

Maybe that, or they knew they'd get a whole

chat about how the light shown through

the leaves, overlapped and made interesting shapes.

"And did you see the cool white lines made 

by the light at the lower left? Oh, yeah,

and the cool shape made where 

there's nothing at all?" 

Blah-blah-blah.

Fever

This picture was taken July 15, not even a month into summer. 

The leaves are already tired and falling from the trees

to the point that natural resources people are

concerned that some trees may die if they don't get rain soon.

The time on my monitor reads about twenty of nine

in the evening and the temperature is 100 degrees.

Here, a portion of the creek that runs south,

parallel to the track, is usually wet with 

sufficient water to support a few tiny fish and

a couple ducks with their broods of ducklings,

grazing along the banks, eating bugs and grass.

This year, as you can see, nothing.

Morning Sun

I like the way morning light filters through leaves. 

In fact, I have to be careful to not be posting

similar pictures more often than I do. 

I love the silhouettes made by the overlapping leaves 

and the more intense color the sun provides.

The warmth of the sunlight can belie the temperature,

which this morning was a springlike thirty-six degrees,

with a coating of frost on the shaded lawns.

Another Textured Tuesday

The yellow leaves seemed to dance, 

swaying to the rhythm of the breeze. 

A final celebration of their summer 

before giving in to the coming winter.

I had to stand patiently, to watch them, 

waiting to take a picture of their dance, 

hoping they would pause just long enough,

bowing before they left their stage.

Art Where You Find It

There are still a few days left of summer, but leaves have started to fall. 

Some do not seem to want to and like this leaf, float suspended between the tree and the ground, held aloft by the magic of one strand of a spider's silk. 

Between them, the man who used his saw to cut the cement and the one who filled it in, they could not have composed a more perfect balance of line and shades of gray if they had tried.

And here, Nature has left an impression on the sidewalk, 

staining it with the color of a leaf from a tulip tree.