Christmas ended this year, as it always does, with macro shots of fungus. As usual, anyone wishing to bypass my diatribe may simply view the whole album here.
So as Christmas day winded down Laura did the only natural thing and betook ourselves unto the forest not-so-primeval. The first thing to catch my eye was this wonderful shelf fungus. This was sufficiently colorful to motivate me to whip out the tripod in the middle of the forest and kneel in the mud.
These little guys are about the size of dimes but if you’re kneeling in the mud on Christmas Day… well, they’re fairly amusing.
Next we got on to the Davis Ferry Bridge. This is about the 5th time I’ve been here but I’m always struck by the contrast between the hard, rusty steel of the bridge and the gentle organic shapes of the trees behind.
Birds are still in season it seems (for photographers only; put your BB guns away)
OK, yeah, I’ll admit that I asked Laura to sit down and be in this shot but it seemed poignant and artful. This was done at the Lafayette Amphitheatre. You’ll know it when you see it because it’s the one that looks like a penitentiary.
Self-portrait in shadow. I didn’t notice how well framed my shadow was until I got it home. Read that: Happy accident.
So as I’ve late I’ve been feeling rather lazy. As a result I’m determined to be more patient. We waited an hour for this sunset though I’m sad that the sun slid south so much and found its way into the trees before it hit the horizon.
While we were waiting that hour though, I did at least find a woodpecker or two.
I kept this only because I thought it a bit abstract.
So now we’re on to Boxing day. Having caught the sunset, it only made sense to pop up at the crack of dawn for the sunrise over the celery bog.
Finally, after waiting an hour (I’m early to everything) the first tiny specks of the sun made their way over the horizon.
And when they say the dawn comes up like thunder… they mean it even on an icy-cold day. It’s about 6 minutes between the first tickling pin-pricks of the sun to “Oh my God, I’m blind!”
And we close on the quiet contemplation of the dawning day, so full of potential.