Photo Journal

Consider the Fallen Leaf

How beautiful the leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days. - John Burroughs

Autumn leaf fallen

October 3, 2022 - A fallen maple leaf in the evening sun

Consider the Fallen Leaf

i saw the leaf before me

full of holes,

curling in upon itself

turning brown

fragile

disintegrating

i saw its veins

darkened by sunlight -

its stem caught

in the crack of a stair

i saw its long shadow

stretching

curling in upon itself

full of holes

i saw the leaf before me

October 3, 2022 - Gathered Leaves and needles from Pier Cove Ravine Trail

October 3, 2022 - Gathering leaves on the trail today, I realized I didn’t really know much about leaves. What do they do for the tree, why do they change colors this time of year, why do they fall off, or if they don’t fall off, why not? Here’s what I learned:

Leaves use water, air and sunlight along with the chlorophyll they already contain to make food (sugar - sucrose) (for the tree. In the fall, when light changes, the chlorophyll starts to break down and whatever color is left in the leaf; depending on its particular chemistry is the color you see. The leaves help the tree grow as long as there is sunlight and available water; but in the winter, when there is less sunlight, and the hard ground makes it difficult for the tree to absorb water, the leaves need to fall off in order for the tree to conserve water. The reason evergreens don’t lose all of their leaves is that their needles or leaves are coated and don’t cause the tree to lose water, so they don’t need to be shed. In warm climates, some trees that are not traditionally considered evergreen also don’t lose their leaves; because they have more available sunlight, and the ground doesn’t freeze. Once leaves fall, of course, they still feed and protect the tree by covering the ground and then breaking down into compost. Birth life - death - rebirth - over and over again every year. It’s amazing.

October 4, 2022 - Fall. Falling. Fallen.

October 4, 2022. We’ve experienced a bluff collapse on Lake Michigan the past few years… it makes for striking images on the beach. The land slid down, trees slid down with it, some falling and dying, some managing to survive in a new location. They are all here; the fallen, the falling and the living - going through fall transition.

October 4, 2022. Sentinels

October 4, 2022. I saw a group of red pines standing next to a house on my run Tuesday night. Evergreens. Tall and regal. Soldiers standing at attention.

Pondering

All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost. —J. R. Tolkien

Box Turtle Markings

When the turtles came of age,

God dipped his finger in liquid gold

and painted ancient symbols

across their carapaces.

This way he would know their names

without seeing their faces

when he returned in spring

To wake them

from their long winter dream

under a bed of forest leaves.

September 23, 2022 and September 27, 2022 - I went to the Saugatuck Dunes twice within a week. The first time was a Friday in between my yoga class and running errands. I hiked with my “big” camera. Fall has arrived here in one fell swoop. It was clear and bright on Friday, but really cool and dry compared to earlier in the week. All trails here lead to the beach eventually, and that was where I lingered, taking pictures of the seagulls fishing - flying, spotting, swerving and diving and then, occasionally, resting. The one in flight is a bit blurry, but the one standing on the ground with his icy eyes is such a beauty.

I returned on Tuesday morning for a run and noticed what looked like a pile of feathers. It turned out to be a dead seagull gradually being buried in sand. In its way beautiful, too, nature taking care of her wild children. I wondered briefly if it could be the same bird with the icy eyes. I hope his spirit is flying somewhere and the fishing is good there.

September 23, 2022 - A feather marking the time with its shadow.

September 23, 2022 - I heard a song that keeps running through my head. It’s called “Hold You Dear” by the Secret Sisters. (here’s a link if you’re interested: https://youtu.be/Nta_A1eano0 ) . Maybe because the season changed so quickly from summer to fall, or because loss has been on my mind for multiple reasons; the lyrics really affected me. The chorus is a promise -

“I will hold you dear,

while my shadow’s long and my eyes are clear.

I know these days will pass away,

so I will hold you dear.”

It may not hit you the same way.;but it opened something up in me that is hard to describe. Ripping through an illusion of having time that I didn’t even know I had . We don’t have time to waste.. Love is the only thing that matters. Giving it without expecting.anything in return. Realizing that eventually I am going to lose everyone I love, and some of them will need me in times of darkness. Even if the only thing I have to offer is my presence, I won’t be stingy. I will put everything down and be there. I won’t let them go without knowing for sure they were loved.

September 24, 2022 - Fallen Monarch

September 24 2022 - Oh I have been trying to get a picture of a monarch for weeks. This is absolutely not the one I wanted. I was hoping to catch one flying. Or sitting on a bit of milkweed. But in the spirit of honoring the fallen; here is a beautiful monarch; lying dead on the pavement. I didn’t remember until later that another monarch has recently fallen - one who has been around for my entire life.

September 27, 2022 - Shifting clouds and wind over the dune grass

September 27, 2022 - My Tuesday run at the dunes. Rain mixed with sun. So beautiful.

Reflecting

Everything that is made beautiful and fair and lovely is made for the eye of the one who sees. - RUMI

September 17, 2022 - Building Cairns on the Beach

cairn building (a fragment)

smooth stones,

clear water,

blue sky -

today i am free

to create something (else) fragile

and temporary

September 14, 2022 - A fallen insect on Pier Cove Ravine Trail

September 14, 2022 - I saw this little bit of gold on a green leaf while i was running. It is strange how this happens. I run past, and the thing i saw registers in my brain. So i turn around to see what it is. I thought it might be a small dragonfly, but i learned that dragonflies all have two sets of wings, and this only has one. I think it is a crane fly. Whatever it is; it is beautiful and broken. Those transparent wings - so delicate. Just amazing that something so small can have so much intricate detail.

It is obviously dead. I actually take a lot of pictures of dead things that i never share. There is so much fragility and honesty in death. Everything that lives also dies. We are all connected by this. We die, but we never really disappear completely. We are changed. It is a mystery.

September 16, 2022 - Evening Walk.

“The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail. Travel too fast, and you miss all that you are traveling for.” - Louis L’Amour

This week I am taking it easy. Slow. Doing only what’s necessary, so I can fully appreciate the last few days of summer. Wandering along the lakeshore and into the woods behind my house. Breathing in warm air. I am so lucky to have this freedom. I am so grateful.

 

September 17, 2022 - I follow an account on Instagram @everysevendays2022 (they change the account name every year) that is an ephemeral art project. Every week a new theme is posted and as a participant, you walk outside and gather things that suit the theme - to you. It is always open to interpretation. This week, the theme was “Loss.,” which seems to flow with what’s already on my mind.

With that theme loosely in my head, i started gathering fallen feathers as i walked along the lake. I found so many. I used them to form the shape of a heart in the sand - i kind of enjoy the way it splays out and is a little abstract. I don’t know if birds notice when they lose a feather. It seems like it would hurt more than losing just a hair on your head; but maybe not. I love that this little project raises questions like that for me.

The picture below is September 18, 2022. We had a storm overnight, and i went down to see what happened to my feathery heart. It was nearly swept away. Sigh…

September 19, 2022 - Sleepy Hollow State Park. Taking a brief overnight camping trip at a State Park near Lansing, Michigan. Couldn’t get a monarch to stay still anywhere long enough for a picture, but this pretty butterfly practically posed for me before flying off. I love those striped antennas.

September 19, 2022. Queen Anne’s Lace Curled up into a nest.

September 19, 2022 - Sleepy Hollow Sunset. I was going to watch the sunset from the fishing pier; but some people were still there fishing; so i found a hidden path; not too well groomed, where i could watch it through the leaves. It was an uncomfortable trail - I had to walk through some spider webs and duck below some low-lying branches - but once i found the clearing; it was magical.

September 20, 2022 - Sleepy Hollow State Park. Got out early for a five mile hike in a different direction, passing by swampy ponds through the woods. Through a clearing i saw this great blue heron perched so perfectly on a fallen tree - it’s almost like they do it on purpose. I mean. They do it on purpose; they’re looking for food; but the pose and his position in the clearing and on that branch framed by the other branches…you’d almost think he was modeling for a photo. I’m so glad i went that route; and sorry i didn’t have my “big” camera to get a clearer shot. But then again; the sort of dreaminess of this is nice too.