07
Oct 22
Oct 22
The shades beneath the shade
“I set out to the explore the world and never made it beyond my back yard.”
That, or something like that, I might be mis-paraphrasing by memory, was the signature file someone used in a photography Usenet that I once subscribed to. I’m not sure where the quote originated as of this writing, because none of the most likely variations brings up the original. But it strikes me, today, as a sentiment I probably didn’t understand then, but appreciate a little better today. Particularly after these few minutes in the back yard this evening.
The woods are starting to get their autumnal glow.
Closer to the ground, the Joe Pye weed is doing it’s thing.
Three different versions of the same weed within two steps of one another.
Everything out here looks tired. Tired of the summer, or already tired of fall, who can say?
Right about the time I noticed the pink smartweed, I started kicking myself for not bringing a macro lens outside.
Let’s check on the maple.
It seems like all the green leaves are facing south. I wonder why that is. I do enjoy the red petiole on that tree, though.
Oh, look, the sun is peaking through.
My contribution to the cause today was this. I supervised the production of four TV shows. I supported two live events. I had two production meetings and four other less eventful meetings.
That was enough. I now feel I can stride into the weekend with a good conscience.
06
Oct 22
Oct 22
Briefly on the beauty of the early quitters
You don’t usually notice them. But, sometimes, you see a bit of nature and something about the moment makes it worth your attention. And sometimes the light and the color and the smell and the moment all come together and you bend down to pick up a leaf.
Then there are those moments where you find yourself bending over in the middle of the road, wondering what you’re doing. There could be cars coming.
But sometimes that moment is worth it.
So long as there are no cars coming.
Maples are huge disappointments, as early harbingers of what is to come. Quitters, I call them. But they do it so beautifully. One can’t help but admire them, if even in frustration.
Though I’m never sure if I should interpret the grand gesture as an apology for what’s to come, or for their letting go so soon.
One supposes it’d be better to hang on tenaciously, and then be beautiful in doing so, but that’s not always the way of it with leaves. Or many things, one supposes.
My contribution to the cause today was this. I scouted a location of a video I have to shoot next week. No idea how I am going to shoot it. I moved a table and two chairs into storage. And I had a few meetings.
Also, I filed down a bit of a strike plate for a door. It looked like a professional operation, what with my using the file and all. At the end of it, the door works better than it did before, which is always the goal, the letting out of things that should go out, the allowing in what needs to go in.
Which wasn’t what I was thinking about when I stooped down to pick up that leaf. But it was what I was thinking about when I missed, and had to reach for it again.
There were cars coming! (I usually notice those …)
