It is hard to describe, exactly, how this scene affected me as I made this photograph. I was in the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge near Socorro, New Mexico, one of my very favorite places to photograph. I find the entire refuge to have a large and diverse range of wildlife in it, and as you are there you never know quite what you will see.

This day, however, the refuge was fairly quiet. The inhabitants who were there preferred to stay hidden, which was a pity. It was early fall, too early yet for the majority of migratory birds to arrive, so seeing any bird this trip was something of a rarity. Still, there was plenty to see and I enjoyed myself thoroughly.

My trip that day was done, and I decided to sit by the shore of a pond and enjoy the last of the day, for it would be dusk soon. As I sat, I simply relaxed, enjoying the sun, enjoying the day, and mostly, enjoying the few canada geese who were at the far side of pond. It was a time of peace, solitude and reflection; the rest of the day began slipping away even quicker than before. When I look at this photograph I am reminded of that time; of that peace and quietude, that perfect afternoon in the bosque. I hope that you feel much the same, and may the peace of the bosque be with you.

Crystal’s Repose

Fall Foretold

You know it is about to happen, even without looking at the calendar. There is a certain–something–in the air that tells you; perhaps it is the quickening of days, perhaps it is that slight cooler evening, or perhaps, just perhaps, it is the unmistakable signs that nature herself provides.

For example, you might be walking in the mountains next to a clear blue stream. Rounding the bend you see it: the bright red leaves among the otherwise lush and green foliage. Surely, you are seeing things, but as you walk closer you realize it is not an illusion, for the red leaves remain red leaves, and the foretelling is unmistakable.

Fall is coming. Fall is coming. The summer will be departing, but still, one magical time of the year merely gives way to another magical time of the year, and the progression continues.

Red Splash

Fall–the very word itself evokes emotion and thoughts of color. Often, the first colors that spring to mind are the oranges and yellows of the turning leaves. For after all, that’s the color they turn, right?

True enough, but not every leaf turns yellow or orange. Take the venerable maple, for example. Its leaves turn a wonderful, vivid and vibrant red and light up any forest they happen to be in. For example, this particular forest is in the heart of the Manzano Mountains, located in central New Mexico. Caught on a wonderful, crisp autumn day the leaves stand in stark contrast to the rest of the forest, and serve as a reminder that the rest of autumn is not far behind.

Nature is wonderful and complex in her glory. Sure, a single, solitary leaf turning color isn’t overwhelming, but when they all turn different colors at different times the myriad of color becomes amazing and breathtaking. When you contrast the reds against the greens, add in a splash of blue, you end up with a scene not unlike this one. And in any event you end up with nature’s display at its best.

This red splash is a reminder that fall is upon us.

Reflection of Fall, originally uploaded by ifringe.

This particular subject has vexed me for the longest time. It has sat there, taunting me, calling to me, daring me to take a picture of it that looks even somewhat reasonable. Every time I pass by it I know, deep in my bones, that a picture lurks there, but I cannot get it. I go home thinking to myself “what if…what if…”

What is this object? Oddly, it’s a barn. Yes, a barn. And old barn to be sure (and because it is old it has a lot of experience with photographer types. It’s a old wily barn). A barn that sits there and simply refuses to be photographed in any meaningful fashion. The problem with this particular barn is that it is red (mostly), weatherbeaten (a lot) and has a ton of really cool features that ought to make a cool picture.

But Sunday I had a plan. I snuck up on the barn in a roundabout way so it couldn’t see me coming. I crept as quietly as I could, making no sound. And then, I popped up from behind a shrub, focused not on the barn itself, but rather the reflection in its window and grabbed this particular picture.

Sure, you can say that technically I did not actually take a picture of the barn. But, the barn frames out the window and reflection rather nicely, I think, and through the window we see the last vestiges of fall.