With summer drawing to a close, these insects should be less troublesome while walking through Huntley Meadows. Of course, the birds will start their fall migration soon (some have already migrated).
As an amateur photographer, I originally started this blog with the intent of sharing pictures that I have taken, and perhaps share an occasional thought or two. It turns out I have quite a few things to say and in the process, I haven’t really posted a lot of pictures lately. So in lieu of the few hundred words I may otherwise write, here are some pictures taken at Meadowlark Gardens in Vienna, Virginia.
Last Saturday morning, I woke up shortly after the sun had awakened and Huntley Meadows, one of the local wildlife refuges, beckoned. There was only one thing that made me think that maybe, just maybe, I should stay in bed. The sky was overcast and the weather casters predicted about two inches of rain for the weekend. I was pretty sure I wanted to just go out, go for a short hike, and take some pictures. There was, however, something weighing on my mind. It was grey. It was dull. What pictures were there to take in such a day as this? In short, while I knew what I wanted to do, how will the reality of the on and off drizzle mesh with my idea of taking pictures of birds in spring? My heart said go ahead. My head asked why? How so?
Sometimes the head wins out. Sometimes the heart flutters too much and like the sweet smell of sampaguitas, the feeling envelops you, and the world feels new. Is new. The dawn of a new day. A little muted, perhaps, but alive with possibilities.
And so it was that three hours was spent walking around in the on and off sprinkles from the sky. And sometimes, the sun decided to tease a little warmth into the cool May morning. The heart may be a lonely hunter at times, but then again, it can only be so. For in the ups and downs and ups in life, we find our way to life lived, a life lived well.
How so? The answer is simple. Make it so. And here are the pictures to prove it.
It was hot. It was humid. It was colorful. Summer and sunflowers. At the Sunflower Garden in Westminster, Maryland.
On my walk at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, I happened upon these shells neatly arranged on a split log. Somebody went through the trouble of finding the shells and then arranging them in the log. All the work so I can happen upon the shells and have something to take a picture of. Amazing. Thank you, unknown artist!
And before I forget. One more picture of an autumn leaf.
Green ones too.
Roadtrip! A mild October day was the catalyst for a short, mostly unplanned trip to the Fort Valley area of Virginia. After an hour driving westward on I66, and lunch at Front Royal, Virginia, it was time to decide. Visit Shenandoah National Park or drive towards the Massanutten high country?
Virginia is a beautiful state. This is especially true in the fall, when canopies of color cover the hills and valleys that roll westward, rising slowly towards the grand chain of peaks that form the heart of Appalachia. Fort Valley is a valley within a valley, so to speak, nestled between the Shenandoah Valley and the Massanutten mountains.
A mere seventy minutes from Washington D.C., Front Royal Virginia is the gateway to Skyline Drive and Shenandoah National Park. A launching point to smaller towns and villages that dot the Shenandoah Valley. In mid autumn, the state roads heading west and south are transformed into colorful avenues that beckon further exploration. A left turn at a stoplight. A few miles later, another left turn to Virginia 678. As the road meandered towards the George Washington National Forest, the cloud filled October sky gave way to a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed unending. The red, orange, yellow and green hues of the still leaf filled trees transform into a sonata of color as the road weaved up and down through mountain passes and the valley floor. A quiet Monday afternoon. A stunningly beautiful Monday afternoon.
For millennia, as far back as the ancient Egyptians and perhaps beyond that, flowers have been part of the human experience. What is the first gift that a child gives to his or her mother? A flower, perhaps a rose, perhaps a dandelion. Something from the garden or maybe the sidewalk. A gift of beauty, an act of love.
Flowers of every shape and color stir our imagination. From the simple drawings of a child, to the masterpieces of Monet, to the songs of Rogers and Hammerstein, to the photographs of Weston, to Mendel’s experiments in genetics – flowers have sparked the creativity of untold millions throughout human history.
Color, shape, dimension, form. Family, Genus, Species. We observe. We study. We categorize.. Everything is given an attribute. Flowers are a complex thing, we say. That may be, but we also know the immutable truth. A flower, you see, is simply beautiful.