moss

Every day during the last month, I’ve walk by this beautiful tree… a moss covered oak growing along a quiet road.  The first time I saw it, I knew I had to photograph it.  And I also knew that I needed some rain to enliven the multicolored moss and lichens on its buttress.  And tonight it rained.  A beautiful soft rain perfect for capturing the mood of the tree.  This is my first attempt at a panorama, but not my last… and certainly not my last study of this marvelous tree.  Please click on the image above to view it larger rather than simply the thumbnail on this post.

Autumn

Rich Seiling wrote a great blog on Photographing the Sierra in Autumn yesterday.  I echo his sentiment that often the fleeting nature of Autumn is what captivates me this time of year as a photographer.  One day, just a few hours or even just a few seconds can make an entirely different moment any time of year, but Autumn seems to be exceedingly fleeting and what might be a beautiful scene of fall color one day might be a bare landscape the next.  Or the subtle color of this Nandina domestica ‘Harbor Dwarf’ (commonly known as heavenly bamboo but is not even related to bamboo) might be blazing red in just two days time.

There is so much to take in visually and I also find my sense of hearing and smell heightened at this time of year.  Just this weekend the sound and scent of Eastern white pine needles toasting in the afternoon sun took me back to sleeping on a bed of these needles in a pine forest when I was about 10 years old.  Cercidiphyllum japonicum (or Katsura tree) foliage released its cotton candy perfume and immediately I had a visual image of the very first time I met this species at the Seattle Art Museum in Volunteer Park.   The warm mid-day breeze mixed with a cool draft off a local river on Long Island had a different scent yesterday than a few weeks ago.  Autumn is an amazing transition; moments in time to become closer with knowing ourselves.

Rain

Today it rained.  When I lived on the west coast, rain seemed like an every day occurrence that most people would rather not have to live with.  It was usually a cold rain and layers of fleece and rain gear was all that could keep you dry.  I always appreciated what rain brought, growth and life to the wonderful beauty of the pacific northwest.  But now that I live on the east coast, rain means something very different to me.  I miss rain most of the time and find simple pleasure and comfort in hearing the beginnings of a gentle rain; I feel connected to the bigger picture at that moment and all my senses are awakened.  But most of all, I love what rain reveals to those who listen.

Morning surprise

Just the other morning, I was ready to pack up my camera gear and head back home after spending some time photographing some trees when I found the morning light hitting a clump of Nasella tenuissima (Mexican feather grass) just right to reveal the morning dew.