The weather is hot yet dreary today. It is possible that we may add to our coffers of rainfall once again. We’ve had entirely too much rain over the past two months (17 inches, according to the Lima News).
This morning I wore my oldest pair of shoes and headed toward one of the soggy parks. The light was unreliable at best. I took some B&W photos, too, but many of those turned out blurry because I forgot to adjust the ISO for the dim light in the forest. Despite this issue, I did find a few of the B&W worth posting on this blog.
By the way, have any of you had luck with using a Facebook page for your blog? I don’t do much with mine, but I noticed there’s lots of features now for making posts, like easy slideshow videos and “Notes” which can incorporate text, photos and video. There’s also some ambitious-looking carousel post which can have links to multiple destinations. This makes me curious as to why Facebook hasn’t harnessed their publishing assets to create the go-to destination for bloggers. It’s like they intentionally left room in the online world for platforms like WordPress and the like.
This morning I went to one of my favorite places, McLean Teddy Bear Park. I hadn’t been there since the middle of spring. While I don’t visit there as often as I’d wish, it’s good to know that this beautiful, serene place is waiting for me should I find the time to get there.
This morning I spotted the hind quarter of a fairly large buck as he slipped away from the parking lot. The sight of him made me wonder how such large creatures can hide so well in a county where more than a 100,000 people live. A few of them are bold enough to open the curtain of their lives to us for just a few moments at a time. Just last week a doe walked along my sidewalk as if she were a woman pleased to be the first one up for a morning walk. When she saw me, she sprinted away noiselessly, as no human can do.
I think I hit a lull in the local wildflower season this morning. There were a few bergamot left, along with a stubborn spiderwort in belated bloom. The prairie isn’t quite ready to explode in variants of wild sunflowers whose blooming will endure until the first frost.
There was also a vigorous orange milkweed, the same one that eludes a good capture year after year.
I don’t feel equal to the task of choosing the best of the photos I took today. While some of them were duds, I really do like the majority of them. In honor of my indecision, I will share a Flickr photo album I made of every picture I took today.
There’s something very candid and vulnerable about sharing a camera roll. It’s like the unretouched swimsuit shot of a photographer’s creative process. It offers the good, bad, and mediocre of one day in my photography hobby. This album does randomize the order of the shots to prevent boredom for the viewer.
The sunshine was glorious today. Last week I was trying to get excited about taking pictures on cloudy days, but there’s nothing like a clear sky to deepen the color of everything,
I’d be honored if you visited my photo album.
The season has definitely made its equivalent of a presidential pivot toward the more serious business of getting all the flora and fauna to prepare for winter. When I ventured out this morning, the temperature was just 37 degrees with very elusive light. I think I may have wasted most of the day’s meager portion of direct sunlight just driving to the park, which is just 20 minutes from my house.
I’m not keen on taking pictures on overcast days. I suppose I shouldn’t rely so heavily on the direct sun for my pictures, but my preference runs strongly to bright light, even if its shadows obscure some details. The clouds conquered the light early in my walk today. I tried my best with these conditions, but I keep thinking I’d like a “do over” on today’s walk.
As for the more positive aspects of this morning’s walk, I spotted a raccoon taking a dip in the park’s pond:
I also spotted this fallen tree that looks like it is ready to settle in for the proverbial long winter’s nap:
I’m hoping for a sunnier day tomorrow to capture more of the season’s color. We’re as close to the peak of leaf season as we’ll get this year.
Grass flowers are like the drunk-at-noon jaywalkers of the plant world. In my city, one can actually be fined for letting the grass get tall enough to bloom, unless it is an ornamental variety that is well-mulched with an obvious garden center origin. Otherwise, grass flowers in a yard advertise that the occupant has let their subscription to civic life lapse.
Why can’t we let a portion of the lawn bloom? There is a bit of the heart that stays wild, no matter how many rules we must keep.