As I Wander in Autumn

 

Going out with a specific goal doesn't always work for me.  On Tuesday, I headed out with a specific goal and very limited equipment.  I'll save that for last.  It was more typical on Wednesday when I just headed in a general direction with a map of back roads to keep me off the popular pathways. First, I found a roadside pond I'd seen last spring with the idea to get permission from the owner to enter.  (I was thinking ducks; did not get an okay.)  This time, I was happy to stay roadside.  

I like the scene.  The red sumac pulls my eye into the blue and yellow.  The reflections double up on the subject matter.  I've got to try again to get permission.  Maybe a photo will soften their heart.

I backtracked a little to head up a single track road into state land.  Soon, I just had to stop in the middle of the narrow road to capture the way the narrow gravel road welcomed me.  The star burst was a bonus.

It only got better about 200 yards farther up the road. I named this image a Golden Maple Framing the Field.

Something in the fore really excites me.  It tells me where I am taking in the view.   Do you see how the distant hill's trees don't have to be in sharp focus for you to enjoy the experience?

This road was making me take notes for next fall.  Another bend and I pulled over again.  Fallen leaves draped over big round glacial boulders were on the edge of the field. Some trees along the left and right sides framed a beautiful orange maple.

 

 

Those three images in less than a mile made it seem so easy to find landscapes in the fall. Maybe I got picky. It was a few miles before I saw an abandoned house that is no long home to anyone.  It seemed better in monochrome.

I turned to go back to the car, and faced a maple matriarch.  The house had so captured my attention that it did not register at first.  It appears that this tree was left, maybe for shade, when all the rest of the woods was clear cut.

This wandering was going well. There was one more country road on my list because it has a tree lined pond.  The drought has lowered the pond to mostly mud and pond scum. Oh well, maybe next year will be okay.  Have you ever noticed how a road or a wood's path looks so different when you reverse direction.  As I left this pond, I saw right in front of me another road to be remembered.  Imagine driving home to this view daily.  This farm family sees it in all four seasons.  Imagine it in snow.

So, this was a pretty good wander.  The day before I took a pre-planned visit to a nearby nature preserve.  I was hiking the trail days before and something about this fallen tree caught my attention.   The tree is very rotten, and when it fell, it left a narrow slot open all the way through the trunk.  I was thinking how this resembled the stone arches seen in Utah's Zion National Park. This was not a photo for a cell phone camera, so some forethought was necessary.  I would need to get really close.

 

So, Tuesday morning I assembled what I needed, including an oddball tripod that allows me to hang the camera upside down nearly touching the ground.  Here is the setup.

My controls are underneath and reversed, but I can see with the articulated display screen what the lens is displaying. To complicate things, the amount of light inside the  tree is much lower than the distant woodland, so I made more than one image and blended them together.

I call this Plymouth Arch in recognition of the like-named Plymouth Woods Preserve.  I am not done with this though. I want to go back on a rainy day when the leaves are vibrant and the light is subdued. It will be a different result.

 

I am thinking this is actually my most satisfying image of the month.

 

Thanks for your interest.

 

Paul Schmitt  

Autumn Wandering

Autumn can be a visually exciting time for photography, or not.  Sometimes it all comes together and it only takes a cell phone to create a beautiful image.  Other times, I find it hard to get excited.  This is the Upper Falls of the Genesee River in Letchworth State Park.  It is only faintly edited with no cropping at all.

This was almost too easy.  More often, autumn photos come out with some good content surrounded by "blah".   Rather then concentrate on the negative, my goal is to identify the plusses.  Here's a quote that I've learned from:

Everything in the picture space either helps or hurts the image. 

There's nothing neutral.       Tony Sweet, Nikon Explorer of Light

For the above image, I chose to stand where the red sumac on the lower right corner of the frame grabbed the eye and began my eye's movement into the scene.  Next, I found level by looking at the vertical trusses in the railroad bridge.  The train track is angled so the right side is more lower in the view.  Finally, the colors are real and not exaggerated as is so often done in autumn. (Don't do that!  It only makes it worse.)

So, I find myself wandering about looking for scenes that contain only positive elements and avoid the boring.  It's tough to avoid diluting the image with "nothing".

I am going to follow a story line like a writer.  This helps me cull the "boring". The image at right sets the scene.  Let's begin a walk in a nature preserve.  It is Plymouth Woods near my home. When Dr. Grant purchased this woodland for a retreat decades ago, he found an abandoned Plymouth sedan. The photo says "autumn" and tells you the origin of the name.  It's enough.

Now, we begin our walk. It's a welcoming scene, and the beech leaves in the lower right quadrant begin your travel.  Take out the beech leaves and it is unsure where to begin.  It doesn't have to be a great image to begin the story of your explore on an autumn morning.

Just up the road, a stone wall appears on the north boundary marking a farmer's hard work a long time ago.

My eye begins the trip at the stone wall and continues to the white birch tree surrounded by gold and rust scenery.  I am enjoying my morning walk and seeing some lovely settings.  Let's look even closer. That's a key.

The leaves are giving in to overnight freezes.  Just like in a movie scene, I am going from images that describe the setting to close-ups of the actors. 

Not every fall image is a blast of rich colors.  There are other stories.  I come upon many ant hills made by Allegheny mound ants (Formica exsectoides).

Yes, I purposely located the flower in the left corner to get your attention.

The colony can exist for many decades as it slowly builds the mound. They excrete formic acid around the edge of the mound and no plants intrude.  Over time, the mound can engulf any stray tree that falls on the mound. This is a story about a walk in the forest, and the ants don't need to be always set in splashy colors. 

It's been a good explore. Let's turn around and head back. Going in the other direction, the woods looks different and I see things that are new.  I didn't see this before.

 

 

It's been a good explore though a golden woods.  Here's a pair of big oaks that were probably a quarter of this size when  Dr. Grant entered Plymouth Woods.  They will continue to grow just like his gift to the Finger Lakes Land Trust.

 

As you view my images, I hope you will see that there is little that is neutral or negative in each.  It's tough to follow this practice but over time it has reduced my sense of failure with my fall images.  And, I have be able to go beyond looking to seeing.

Paul Schmitt