Scenes from September 5
The light pouring in the windows of this house is what sold us on it. The view through those windows didn’t hurt either.
Where the treetops meet the sky
As Hurricane Sandy rolled through, we woke to the tallest, skinniest pine bending back and forth in the breeze.
The solar hula girl whose hips squeak with each gyration.
The day of the insect.
I didn’t know it would be. I hadn’t planned on it.
But as the sun peeked over the trees this morning, it illuminated a huge spider web stretched between two branches. Upon closer inspection, I saw that they were everywhere. And big. And beautiful.
I know this is the time of year when I tend to find spiders smooshed into the smallest spaces and corners of our warmer-than-the-chill-outside-air house, but it seems like they are proliferating like crazy. Or just enjoying a last hurrah at the end of the season.
Then there were slugs and fuzzy caterpillars lining the driveway.
So insects and arachnids abound. They are my muse today.
I love the way this one seems to be floating through the air.
My children’s literature experience with slugs is the ones fireflies suck the life out of and My Buddy Slug – revolting and endearing. Don’t know about this guy, but I do love his little antennae poking up!
fuzzy wuzzy was a hairy old man who wreaked havoc on plant life . . .
The first day of school dawned misty and mournful, just like the groan that came from my daughter’s bedroom as the alarm’s buzzer issued. But the drive in was filtered by sunlight and these moments of clarity on the way home.
Bi-way
I loved the way the trees and various shades and textures of green filled the frame
Time flows on, just like water, but there is the moment just before the plunge; the pause, the reflection, the leaves poised on the brink. And then the plunge.
Baby frog (or toad – the girls and I have not sorted that out yet) that started out on our porch, then hopped under the chairs, off the edge under the rail, onto the grass from the raised flower bed – all through which we gave chase. Then most likely a heart attack as my camera flashed at the poor little thing as I focused. He looks huge here, but so tiny and delicate.
I’ll climb the walls if I have to in order to get away from you people!
A few mosquitoes, damp grass, the softly falling first leaves of the next season, a photographic excursion the night before the first day of school where time seems to stop, the season of summer suspended in its last breaths.
The 21st of this month marks a year in our new home.
A year ago, I packed my books into boxes, I read books on the subject, I wrote volumes about the subject.
A year later and the air feels familiar. The cool of a season I recognize in this place has arrived.
Which seems to me like the perfect time to reflect.
So I’ve decided to do a photographic series on my surroundings, seeing them everyday and for the first time, for this month of September, this month of settlement, that becomes less and less transitory the more it comes around.
Scenes from September 1
Chopping Potatoes 