Free form

Like a swirl of leaves we were off today, leaving work interrupted in mid-sentence.

In a race to beat the setting sun, we set off and I floundered a moment before getting my bearings and setting off...patting my pockets to make sure we were well-equipped for a walk.

It came to mind that there are "throwaway" days when I have no direction from a photography standpoint and I shoot to shoot and hope it will emerge somewhere along the way.

Domino still braved the cold water even though I was bundled up against the gusty wind.

Walking through the woods, seeing tiny plants emerging out of season amongst dead leaves it struck me how it is important for one to know what season one is in. One should not draw in when it is time to open up. One should not open up when it is time to draw inward.

It is important to know your own season.

Even nature makes those mistakes.

In nature, those mistakes are often fatal.

And though it would be an amazing thing if the forest were in bloom year round, the forest knows what season it is in.

So should we. There is a time for growth and a time to regroup. And sometimes a time to just be dormant.

And it should not affect the luminousity of who we are.

And beauty exists in the many different facets of being.

The wind played tricks today, moving through the forest in small gusts that had us startling. Or I would think the dogs were behind me when they were ahead.

It seems to follow the gullies and folds of the forest as though confined to trails of its own.

The faint smell of winter comes with it.

The trees seem to be very solemn giants without the green to mask them beneath the canopy. Fall comes to the depth of the forest first and everything is bleached of color where the sun filters through.

Aside from ever industrious ants, I haven't seen anything alive in days.

Sniffing through the falling leaves could occupy the dogs for hours.

While I search for any last vestiges of color.

The task of photography becomes truly free form without any intent.

I take more chances with shots just in case this one or that one works.

In the distance I can hear the strange cries of the resident pair of hawks. They will probably not stay much longer as the owls move in, but they might.

We wind through the forest like intersecting strains of yarn, dogs tails waving back and forth.

Pale light fading as we walk and shadows coming to roost along the way.

Kicking my thoughts through the leaves.