gold at my feet

I've always wished autumn would stretch beyond the short few weeks of colors changing from vibrant greens to golds, oranges, reds and browns.
There is a hike that I take every week in autumn, and the landscape changes so much from week to week that it is both breathtaking--and a bit sad. To see the leaves burst into gorgeous hues, only to drop to the ground and fade in so relatively brief a span...

The particular day this photograph was taken, most of the leaves had changed and fallen, except for the aspens. As they, too, succumbed to the inevitable loss of their golden crowns, I noticed that, instead of a burst of gold overhead, now the trail was paved with gold--and these beautiful golden leaves, once so loftily set in the skies, created another marvel of beauty to be appreciated and enjoyed....if I only stopped to look.
As gold at my feet....


Listen to the song I composed for this photo:
gold at my feet

contemplating....

I don't have much to say to accompany this photo. To me, it says all it needs to say:

serenity
contemplation
beauty
peace
joy
color
contrast
life
change
seasons...

What does it 'say' to you?

another look

The same view as the previous post, a week later...
A change of colors....it's one of the things that makes autumn the best season of the year (for me, anyway!).

rivers of gold

Autumn is my favorite time of year. And this photo illustrates one of the reasons. I saw this distant view across the meadow on my hike a few weeks ago.
The colors had just started turning, and it appeared as if the mountain ran with rivers of gold. They were the first heralds of autumn, these golden leaves. And, as you'll see in the next post, the next week the colors had totally changed....

simplicity...

Breaking it all down to the simplest things sometimes helps me to focus on what's most important.

Looking at this photo reminds me that the leaf covered in water droplets would be all but lost to my eye 'in the big picture.' But, for some reason, that very small leaf did catch my eye, and by focusing in on it, the 'world' surrounding it suddenly becomes a simpler place, and the detail of it, exquisite.

In a way...a respite from the other, larger distractions that keep me from enjoying the singular beauty of water droplets, of the veins on the leaf, of the calming reflections upon the glassy surface of the water. An unexpected moment of shifted perspective, of meditative appreciation in a mass of competing 'visual information.'

And maybe something well worth trying in my own life, when I feel distracted and even overwhelmed by the obvious and 'more urgent' day to day tasks that keep me from noticing the simple, yet truly beautiful, details of what is around me.

Room....With a view.

There's something about having enough space to feel as if you could take off and fly, breaking free of gravity and everything that holds us down and keeps us earthbound: the job, the need to pay the bills, the appointment next week with the doctor...

When I climb to a ridge and see a vista like this, with the endless sea of sky and clouds, I'm simply free.

Room to imagine, to roam in my mind's imaginings. Room to expand my lungs and breathe fresh air, and feel as if I might float away. Room to raise my arms to the sky and let the freedom of that....the space of it...set me soaring.

A delicious escape from the ordinary, the mundane, the expected.

And room....with a view.

Lost in it all...

I can't imagine NOT going on my Saturday 'escape' hike--especially when I go back and look at the pictures again and get lost in it all.

Thank goodness for digital photography! It makes it so easy to capture a memorable sight, copy and reproduce it elsewhere (such as this blog) and to review it over and over....

When I look back at some of these photos, it's as if I'm standing right there once more. No matter where I am, I'm transported back to the sight of the green, green ferns and undergrowth, the whisper of the aspens and the nearby gurgling stream, the groan of the boardwalk over the springs as you cross, the earthy, pungent smell of decaying fir needles and loamy earth.

Maybe because it is a retreat from 'the everyday' is why it means so much. Because no matter how hectic my workweek has been, I know I can find fresh air and absolute release from that eight-to-five grind, and a morning lost in it all.

I can explore, revel and simply soak it in...and look forward to next Saturday.

Butterflies...

Butterfly 2--Big Springs, originally uploaded by MystifiedCat.

They are everywhere this time of year.

My favorite Saturday hike included sighting dozens of these. Though as the summer wanes and the intense green of the meadow mellows to a golden cast and the summer flowers fade, I realize that it will be a long while until I see these colorful reminders of warm days and green landscapes again.

There is something wonderful in the patterns and hues of what might well be described as 'fluttering blossoms.' And the fact that they are difficult to get a clear shot of only makes the success of it more of an event!

Every year I try to photograph them, and every year I get one or two decent shots. Although, one or two is really all that I need, for in the recollection, it is easy to picture the meadow, the flowers, the butterflies all over again.

A simple yet resplendent gift of nature.

scattered...

scattered..., originally uploaded by MystifiedCat.

In contrast to the previous post, I took this photo down at the level of the fallen tree. It fills most of the photo and points the way to other fallen trees, awash in tones of somber greys and browns.
Splotches of green here and there give a sense of life and hope, but for most of the field, the images of scattered and decaying trees dominate.

Aspen trees

I suppose aspens are the antithesis of 'a darksome wood.' An odd way to start this blog, perhaps--especially since I don't really know what to actually *do* with this blog!

(Chances are, many of my blog entries will be similar to this one--a picture and about a thousand words.)

But what is it about an aspen grove? I took this photo in the Uinta forest, on a trail that wound between slender, stately aspens such as these and brooding, earthy firs and evergreens.

There is something magical about each, but in a different way. 'Quaking aspens' do just that, and at the slightest breeze they seem to whisper secrets amongst themselves, while the light plays against the twirling leaves.

These trees here seemed as a curtain off the trail--a wall of graceful guardians that drew your gaze in and then up to the sky above. And while it's difficult to describe in words the exact feeling of standing in such a grove, if you've never had the chance to walk among the aspens and experience the certain serenity, I highly recommend it.

To listen to the song I composed for this photo, click here.