This time of year is dominated by the sunrise. Or, at least it is for me. This year has not been spectacular, but it has been lovely.
Are these oddball? I can’t say. I took them all very early in the morning. Just at or immediately after dawn. I shot from a window off my bedroom where I keep a camera in case I see something.
It could be the dawn, a bird, clouds, or anything else. I can grab a picture before it gets away and often, these pictures are so ephemeral, they exist for mere seconds.
Moreover, I took all of these without benefit of eyeglasses. I’m was not entirely sure what I got — if anything — until I download the pictures to my computer sometimes days later.
All of these were taken on the morning of my birthday. It was a lovely morning. A rosy dawn, a golden sunrise. A good day to be alive.
If there is a tree in the desert and you don’t know what it is … and you are in the southwestern part of the U.S., you can pretty much say “ironwood” and be right.
This particular ironwood was in a front yard in suburban Phoenix and in much better shape than most of the ones you see out in the desert. It showed off nicely in black and white.
CEE’S FUN FOTO CHALLENGE: BUILDINGS WITH TREES
This week’s topic is Building and Trees. Any building, any tree as long as they are in the same photo.
There are trees everywhere in the valley. I don’t believe you can find any building without a tree.
Without the dramatic colors of other seasons, I love the subtle gradations of color and light.
Can you see the house (above) tucked in between the trees?
I always tell people — and I mean it — if you can’t take pretty pictures in New England in October, you don’t deserve a camera.
The foliage is spectacular and the weather is perfect. It’s cool, but not cold. Crisp, like the apples ripening in the orchards.
From my woods to you …
I would like you to take three pictures in or around your home of things that are special to you. Tell me the story about it. Why is it special?
I live in the woods and living here is like … well … living in the woods. The trees are all around us, naked in winter, providing deep shade in summer … and glorious in October.
Life amidst the trees has its drawbacks. The house is dark in the summer. The oaks are tall forming a canopy the sun cannot penetrate. But our house stays cooler in the summer than most.
The trees are constantly changing. Growing. Reshaping themselves. They whisper between themselves, secrets only they know and I would love to share.
The leaves are changing. Too early. I think it’s the lack of rain. It has not been cold. No chilly nights to snap the color out of the trees. The only possible answer is the endless drought that is affecting much of the world … and a huge swatch of North America.
The rivers are empty again. I’m trying not to think about the well.
The trees are turning yellow quickly. In just a few days, they’ve gone from showing a bit of yellow, to showing mostly yellow. Fast, furious, and weeks too early.
And a link to Cee’s Flower of the Day, even though these aren’t all flowers!
I looked out the back door and realized the aspens are turning yellow. They are always the first trees to show color, and always bright yellow. Because they are the first, they are hard to miss … yellow gold in the sea of dark green oak leaves.
But, if you look closely, the oak leaves are changing too. They never develop real color, not the way the maple, birch, and aspen do.
Instead, they slowly change from light green in spring, to very dark green in late summer … and now, slowly, develop veins of bronze until sometime in late November, they leaves are all bronze. Almost red.
By the time the oaks completely turn, all the other trees are bare, so they become the last remnants of the autumn. Sometimes, those leaves will cling to the oaks until well into the snows of winter.
It’s the herald of things to come. The warning bell has rung. The last fuchsia are popping on the hanging pots, the roses are finally giving it up. And the ragweed is blooming.