Fall Has Arrived

Sunday was the official first day of fall and oddly enough it feels like mother nature saw that fall was official and turned down the temperature to more a more fall-like feeling. Like it or not

Fall Has Arrived

though not all of the bushes and trees around our house are convinced of that. And I think that we may still see more warmer than normal weather for the remainder of the season.

Saturday when I looked out my office window towards the neighbor’s crab apple tree I noticed something pink that looked like blossoms. Sure enough when I looked closer it was a small group of new leaves and pretty pink flowers.

Then I looked more closely at the small hydrangea tree outside my window and noticed that along with all of the slightly pink and green older flowers on the tree there were some new white blossoms. It seems that our strangely warm fall has confused some of the trees as to what the season actually is. I also saw some lilacs in bloom along Highway 7 going west towards Excelsior. I haven’t read or seen anything about this but I sure am curious about how often this happens.

This morning I saw a family of mallard ducks at the edge of the pond, resting and dabbling. For the past week there have been two diving ducks in the pond in the early morning diving and surfacing, diving and surfacing. They look like adolescents but I’m not sure what kind of ducks they are. I do wonder what they are finding to eat in the pond. But then again, maybe I’d rather not know exactly what they are eating.

Trial and Error

I began working on a photo project idea last week and found that my first trials were complete failures. So it’s back to thinking and imagining what will come next. It is wonderful when creative ideas appear “fully formed” but in my experience I start with an idea, try it, decide that it won’t work, try something else, and so on countless times before a project takes its final shape and form. I have learned that trying and failing is a big part of my process. Sometimes my failures bring me little epiphanies that steer me in the direction towards a workable idea. Other times, they simply show me what doesn’t work.

But what I’ve learned over the years is that trying and failing is the only way forward. Each failure teaches me something. Every time I utter the phrase, “Well, that won’t work,” I’m learning something and moving forward even if it doesn’t feel like it.

All art is a work in progress. It’s helpful to see the piece we’re working on as an experiment. One in which we can’t predict the outcome. Whatever the result, we will receive useful information that will benefit the next experiment. If you start from the position that there is no right or wrong, no good or bad, and creativity is just free play with no rules, it’s easier to submerge yourself joyfully in the process of making things. We’re not playing to win, we’re playing to play. And ultimately, playing is fun. Perfectionism gets in the way of fun. A more skillful goal might be to find comfort in the process. To make and put out successive works with ease.
― Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

Last week I spent some time reviewing my early photography and I learned so much about my creative journey. I discovered that my work has changed significantly over the years. Part of that change is a matter of practice and building skill. But more of it is a change from wanting to make photographs of something to wanting to create photographs that express something, a feeling or an idea.

The pandemic and its restrictions changed my work too. I began making more photographs of our backyard and the pond behind the house. And I began to appreciate the small scenes of grace and beauty hidden in plain sight. I love photographing the small daily miracles that I experience in the world.

More Nature Notes

This week has felt like a string of beautiful sun swept days. Though it started out cloudy this morning, the clouds dispersed to create a blue sky filled with puffy white clouds kind of day. I am enjoying the cooler temperatures this week.

Yesterday I went over to Lake Camelot Park to see if the swan family was still around. I imagine that the cygnets are now flying so I wasn’t sure what I would find. They weren’t in their usual spot but there were lots of mallard families swimming around in that area. And there was one lone coot hanging out with a group of mallards.

In the distance I saw a snowy egret standing in the marsh. And then, as I was heading back to the car I saw one of the adult trumpeter swans near the boardwalk preening its feathers. I am imagining that the rest of the family was out flying as the young ones need to build up their wing strength for the fall migration in November. Because I’m curious I plan to return to the park soon, closer to sunset, to see whether I see the whole family together there.

Fall Song

Another year gone, leaving everywhere
its rich spiced residues: vines, leaves,

the uneaten fruits crumbling damply
in the shadows, unmattering back

from the particular island
of this summer, this NOW, that now is nowhere

except underfoot, moldering
in that black subterranean castle

of unobservable mysteries – roots and sealed seeds
and the wanderings of water. This

I try to remember when time’s measure
painfully chafes, for instance when autumn

flares out at the last, boisterous and like us longing
to stay – how everything lives, shifting

from one bright vision to another, forever
in these momentary pastures.

   — Mary Oliver

I filled my hummingbird feeder for the last time of the season last week. But I saw only a single hummingbird visit the same day that I cleaned and refilled it. I’ll leave the feeder up for a few more days but I think all of the hummers have headed south for the year. The male gold finches have lost their vivid yellow color and put on their drabber fall colors. Goldfinches are mobbing my bird feeders almost all day every day this time of year. I am filling the feeders every other day and sometimes oftener. It is truly astonishing to watch all them flutter and feed and fight for a spot on the feeder.

What are you seeing on your autumn walks my friends? And what are you creating or learning about? Is there something that brings you joy or wonder or causes you to be curious?

May you walk in beauty.