Although the leaves have been falling for about a week, this morning, we had a storm of leaves. They were falling so thick and fast for a few hours, it was like a weird weather event. Now, at four in the afternoon, it’s over.


Our world is carpeted in millions of leaves that someone is going to have to clean up. If it doesn’t rain … and I do believe that rain is on its way. You can’t blow or rake wet leaves.


Many of the trees, including quite a few oak trees, are now bare. Yet there are a few roses still clinging to the bushes in the garden.


The forsythia bushes remain green while the Japanese maple is scarlet. Spots of dark red and gold peek through empty branches. It’s a strange time of year.


Oh, did I mention that the temperature is still in the 70s? It may look like November, but it feels like September. We are scheduled for lower temps by the weekend … but only down to the mid fifties, which is downright balmy by New England standards.


And there are probably a few million more leaves yet to fall.

Scenes Of Autumn In Uxbridge

Marilyn Armstrong:

I had to reblog this. Scenes of home … right down to and including the driveway. Golly. That’s also got to be the absolutely best picture of local water lilies (the wild ones, not cultivated in a nursery) I’ve seen, including my own photographs of them.

Originally posted on :

This is my first Autumn in Uxbridge, MA. I can see the differences here as compared to the Pacific Northwest. I can smell the differences as well. There are a lot more leaf bearing trees in New England than Oregon. Oregon is the largest producer of Christmas trees in the country. That means pine trees, lots of pine trees. You can drive the back roads of Oregon and see mountains rising high into the clouds, all covered in pines. Not many pines here on the East Coast in New England. It’s not better, just different.

As a result of all the leafy trees here the ponds and ground are covered with a carpet of colorful leaves. Lilypads are everywhere. Plants I haven’t noticed abound here. I have yet to see a single fern here. The Pacific Northwest is covered with fiddlehead ferns.

So my photography is now capturing New England’s…

View original 34 more words



Bridge across the Blackstone River

Bridge across the Blackstone River

River Bend is where the Blackstone River and Canal divide and flow side by side. It’s where a farm, built two centuries ago stands, housing a small museum and visitor center and where the trees of autumn are already starting to shed their leaves.

Bob Mielke at River Bend

Bob Mielke at River Bend

It has been an unenthusiastic autumn. Beautiful, because autumn is beautiful, no matter what. Far from one of our best or brightest. Brief, because it arrived late and appears to be departing early.


We got some color, but mostly yellows without the deep orange and reds. At least we didn’t go directly from green to brown. The river remains low, with bottom showing. The spillway between the river and canal is dry. There was a heron fishing by the spillway. I think they nest nearby.


Footbridge at River Bend park

Footbridge at River Bend park

Lots of rumors about what effect El Niño will have on the upcoming winter. Some say it will be a warm winter with less snow, others say it will be the same as last year. There are too many variables.

We weren't alone at the park

We weren’t alone at the park

If El Niño stays strong, it should bring warmer temperatures to the northeast. If El Niño pulls up stakes and moves out before January, then other forces will come to bear, including a possible polar vortex.


So really, we don’t know.

More River Bend, with Bob in the foreground

More River Bend, with Bob in the foreground

But I believe. We bought a 4-wheel drive car which is like buying a big, expensive snowblower. This usually ensures at least one snow-free winter. (If you pay more than $40,000, you might get two.)

I’m counting on it.

Peaceful Blackstone

Peaceful Blackstone

Should you decide to accept this challenge, you can use a picture from this or any post of mine  — or any other picture you like. Write something about the picture or make something up, using a photograph — any photo — as a jumping off point.

This is the easiest prompt in the world.


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It’s almost over. The leaves are fading — early — and dropping from the trees. Many are already half bare. Bob and I went down to Riverbend and the Blackstone Canal. If we waited much longer, it would be too late.

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It’s lovely, though not spectacular. The drought made the change come too late and last too short a time. The weather is still lovely, but the color in mostly yellows with occasional patches of red or orange.

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Still, there nothing that warms my heart as much as New England in the fall. October is my favorite month and has been since I was a kid and heard the first maple leaf crunch under my foot on my trek to school.

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I always mourn its passing and plan to enjoy it as long as I can.

A note to my fellow local photographers. Either you live in a different state than me, or you are cooking your photos.

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We have not had those brilliant, glowing colors this year. An occasional bright maple or ash, but mostly … yellow or soft orange dominates the landscape. The dryness, lack of an early cold snap, lingering warm, humid days have conspired to produce a muted autumn.


If you twiddle with saturation and color balance, you can produce brilliant autumn colors in any picture. May, July … anytime can be glorious autumn. If that’s what you want.



It wasn’t a photo excursion. We were driving from a doctor’s office to the mall. To PetSmart, to get extra dog food. And biscuits. Have to make sure the doggies have plenty of kibble and biscuits. They’ve never missed a meal and I wouldn’t want this to be the first time.


The road between North Street and Route 140 is lovely. The woods are bright because its is dominated by alders. They turn bright yellow in the fall, and unlike the oak, they don’t form a canopy to block the sun.


The train tracks cross the road, though I’ve never seen a train. We have train tracks running through Uxbridge too, but no train station … not any more. What used to be the train station is now a real estate office. Once a week, you can hear the wail of the train’s whistle as it rumbles through, coming from somewhere. Going somewhere else.


I don’t know what it is about this train crossing, but I love it. Something about the way the road dips and curves. It reminds me of something, but I’m not sure what. It makes me wistful, as if there is a memory somewhere tucked in a corner of my brain … but I don’t know where.


The leaves were bright today. Not at peak. Not quite. At least I don’t think they are at peak … yet they are falling, even before many of the trees have changed color. It’s as if autumn has been short-circuited. Is it the lack of rain?


One year ago, we were on the road to Jackman, Maine. Autumn in northern New England. This year, the leaves have barely begun to change. Strange.