Some of my favorite creek pictures this year were of the snagged leaves above. All creek and forest pics are straight out of the camera, no editing; only the cat picture is doctored, although the cat did help edit the overall post. I have autumnal picture overflow this year, so I’ll try for one or two other fall posts later. They’ll be non-linear, out of sequence time-wise. We’ll go back and forth, in and out, of this light-haunted season in the southeast US. Mainly the astonishing creek now; next, mainly forest.
We walk to the small, wild, Appalachian creek; my range-around strength is limited, yet I find a zillion scenes I want to snapshoot. As a painter, I’ll often consider the colors included when I frame a shot. I’ll go for the definitive but also for the abstract; if I zoom beyond focus, if I bypass reality, I’ll take that.
Light becomes all slanty, oblique, in autumn. We can see the difference, and feel it too. It sparks feelings of longing, sadness; for the summer we see slipping away, for all those we have lost. Family, and so many friends, have passed on. So much ability lost. I could not walk as far downstream on one walk this year. The illumination on failing leaves is so beautiful, I step out to take pictures five times every day. Down here at the creek, the reflective water bounces the light and makes merry. Fall’s a festival, a bittersweet one, but we savor all we can and get a mood boost from watery harmonies, both visual and auditory.
Water sound is light and airy but the dazzle is set on ‘brass band’:
I admit to infrequently moving a pine cone or a sweetgum seedpod to compose a forest scene on the ground. But I never mess with the views on the water. I witnessed my husband pulling an entire two-foot broad-leaf magnolia leaf out of a leaf dam to stage his creek scenes! I caught him yellow-orange handed! His photos will make a philosophical point, and I think it’s funny, but I’m never going to do this. I like my creek pics unrehearsed. Long ago I found the tree the big leaf came from, on the opposite bank. I’ve also seen the sweetgum trees that are shedding into the creek. But the tulip tree leaves, I haven’t located that tree yet.
Featuring: Seriously green dazzle, just out of my grasp:
The underwater and on top of the water, abstracts and semi-abstracts:
Plain ole sunken leaves:
I see at least two Tulip Tree leaves in the above picture.
While I hope we’ll have many more years, I know we won’t always be here to watch out for this creek. I hope there will always be those who will keep it safe. For my environmental essay about this tributary, and all tributaries, click here:
Downed leaves courtesy of the forest and its trees:
Sweetgum leaves can can be found in several autumn colors, and sometimes combinations of colors. Mostly we see either all yellow, or all red. Here, with a tinge of leftover green, the leaf shows off its versatility.
The Bud cat waits to edit on the computer desk. I only painted out the computer to show him off better, not to downplay his role in the posting process. This reassurance helps to keep him purring!
Part 2 at this link: