*Resisting Winter

If I could,

I would stand at the

ready

as each leaf falls,

and return the jewel

to its branch,

restoring autumn

to its perfection.

Time, like sand,

seems to slip

through our fingers faster,

the tighter we try

to hold onto it.

Resisting change,

just like resisting

the passage of time,

is such a futile act.

Winter will come, and

will not be stopped.

As soon as we embrace

each moment for what it is,

anxiety falls away, and

relaxation takes its place.

There is such perfection

in the present moment.

Frost will come,

and with it the

splendor of ice crystals,

glitter that glistens

like fairy dust,

as the sun dances

across the land.

Until then, the leaves will

slowly begin to rust,

and the trees will loosen

their grasp on the jewels

of the passing season.

To mourn this rite of passage

is as useless as wishing

to stop the hands of the clock.

We can cherish what is,

and welcome what is to be,

and be grateful for the

joys to be had in this

perfect moment in time.

*Shaking Off the Sadness of a Passing Season

I will be the first to admit that I had a bad attitude this morning. Maybe not a bad one as much as a slightly sad one. My mind felt troubled.  It didn't take long to figure out what the problem was.  I was not living in this present moment.  I was worrying about the future. Whenever that happens, mild anxiety sets in, anxiety and a little bit of depression.  

I had been watching the trees change from greenish yellow to yellow to golden to rust to bare all too quickly.  Life seemed to be passing me by.  Before I know it, there will be fat fluffy snowflakes drifting outside my window panes, and sweet autumn will be a thing of the past.

One of my favorite remedies when I find myself not living in the moment is photography.  Taking pictures forces me to be fully present, to notice the world around me.  I knew I needed to get outside and focus my lens and my mind on nature.  

I was afraid that all I would find would be confirmations of what I dreaded most:  the end of this beautiful autumn season and signs of the coming winter...bare limbs with the last straggling leaves clinging to them, or small drifts of snow. But the more I looked, the more I found to enjoy.  

As it turned out, I had TWO outdoor experiences today, one solo in the morning, and one later in the day with Marley.  I took my camera both times,  and soaked in all of the beauty around me...clouds and fog, leaves and limbs, mountains and trees, rocks and rivers.  I took in big gulps of air to clear my head.  I soon realized that by worrying about the coming winter, I was missing out on what is left of my favorite season.  

How often do we catch ourselves fretting over things that are not even part of our reality?  It is such a waste of precious energy.  I feel the need to chastise myself because not only is the coming winter not something to worry about, I love winter, too.  Part of me was concerned that I was not getting outside often enough to enjoy the pleasures of this passing autumn.  It seems so obvious that all I needed to do was go outside, but when we aren't thinking clearly, the obvious becomes shrouded in our confused thoughts.

How grateful I am for the moments I was able to have in solitude, and later, with my Boston Terrier. We need to enjoy every possible moment outside while we can.

My friend's field receives its final watering until next year.

The Old Church in Joseph

The Sevier River

I could look at these colors all day...

The foliage in Marysvale Canyon offers varieties of colors and textures.

Yes, I stretched out in the middle of the road for this shot!

Red Maples...my favorite.

Even the leaves seemed grateful for the sun today.

Our view from Cottonwood Canyon this afternoon.

Although some trees are nearly barren, there is beauty to be found in their simplicity.  I will continue to seek out these jewels of autumn until they are completely replaced by naked trees and snow-covered landscapes.  By then, I will be ready for winter, and all of the stark beauty she offers me.

As Fall Fades, the Deer Return

Standing on our deck in my bare feet, sipping hot coffee, while admiring the pre-dawn sky, I felt so grateful to know that we'll always have stars, even after all of the leaves fall.  There is nothing that makes me feel like I am a part of this vast universe like looking at the star-studded sky here in Marysvale, where the sky is blacker, and the constellations brighter.  My heart felt heavy this morning, and I needed the reminder that there are certain parts of nature that are with us always. Yes, I'm feeling melancholy the more the signs of autumn fade into the first signs of winter.

Yesterday on our drive through the canyon, I drove a little slower.  I reminded Bridger to take it all in.  "The leaves won't be here much longer."  He wasn't too sad about it.  There are still plenty of leaves to enjoy.  I've just been noticing as more of the leaves turn to rust, the trees are exposing more of their bare bark and limbs.  The trees of winter are preparing to take their stand.

I love fall foliage.  Each delicate leaf, perfect in its imperfection speaks to me.  I love the splashes of color on our rocky mountains, and the trees in their autumnal grandeur, and even the fallen leaves, slowly decomposing on the forest floor.  I'm going to miss them.

One thing I can count on during this time of year, is our deer returning.  How my heart soared to see them grazing in the yard at the edge of the trees.  I know they eat our trees and grass.  I know that some of our pine trees will never recover from the deer feeding on them.  I still love it when they honor us with their presence.

Our neighbors all the way up the canyon talk of their deer.  Pam's have names.  The deer rest on her porch in the shade, and love to feast on watermelon rinds and corn.  Most of us love the deer.  Those who love their gardens and fruit trees protect them with fences.

The matriarch of the canyon who seems to think of Pam's deck as home.

Meet a couple of our more recent guests...

Handsome little buck

One last look before he heads into the trees...

Until next time!

Canyon of Gold

Bullion Canyon is also known as the Canyon of Gold in the Fishlake National Forest in Utah. When I hear the old phrase, "There's gold in them thar hills," I think of our canyon, but I don't think of any precious metals. I think of golden aspen leaves interspersed with rusty oak leaves and red maple leaves. That's the gold I am panning for with my camera.

I know they say sometimes you can't see the forest for the trees.  To me, that means we lose sight of the big picture when we get lost in the details. In Utah, it seems you can't see the leaves for the forest, really. There just aren't as many deciduous trees here, and most of the foliage is low-growing scrub oak or scrub maple growing in spots among the pines. And sometimes, like yesterday, you can't see the leaves for the fog...

I'm used to the fall foliage that covers the mountainsides on the east coast, having grown up in Virginia. The Blue Ridge Mountains look like they're on fire when fall is in full swing. To satisfy my need for vibrant color here in Utah, I find what I'm looking for when I get "up close and personal" with my camera, zooming in on the beauty of individual leaves or branches. When my viewfinder is filled with color, I get the same sensations I did growing up in the foothills of the Blue Ridge.

My faithful companion during my photo safaris.
I miss you, Baby Marley. 

A Photo Essay of the Farmer's Fields

Pumpkin patches and rows of corn...the time of harvest has come.

Autumnus Interruptus

Whenever I have plans, I am happy.  As long as I have something penciled in on the calendar, I am pretty easy to live with.  (Let's not investigate that too closely this morning, okay?)  So I was very happy to have made a little plan for myself for Friday morning. 

Here was my plan:

1. Drop Bridger off at school
2. Drive up Monroe Mountain
3. Take loads of pictures of the fall leaves
4. Find a pumpkin patch
5. Take loads of pictures of pumpkins

You know what they say about the best laid plans...  Thursday night it started snowing.  Not a blizzard or anything, just a light swirling of snowflakes falling from ominous clouds that nearly touched the base of the mountain.  I kept my fingers crossed as night fell with the flakes.

The next morning revealed no snow had stuck, but it wasn't the warm autumn day for which I had hoped.  THIS is what we saw when we drove over the Joe Town Hill.  Beautiful, but not very promising weather for heading up the mountain.  I didn't care. I had a plan.  My plan did not specify what type of clothing would be required to enjoy this day.  I had a heater in my car. I could still make this work.

Once Bridger and I had said our goodbyes and love yous, I headed for Monrovian Park, my kids' and my favorite place for fall pictures, and walked briskly down the trail toward the stream. The absence of my children was noted by my heart. One reason I wanted to take the pictures is to share our favorite spot with the big kids who have moved away. Dylan is in Saint George in the middle of the desert, and Sierra has moved to Denver. This might be the only way they could enjoy autumn in Monroe, vicariously through me. I wasn't finding large patches of colorful trees, but I found when I zoomed in on the small patches, my lens was full of fall foliage.  I was very cold, but I was happy.

By the time I had climbed to Monroe Peak...oh, excuse me, I don't mean to mislead. I would like to tell you I was hiking, but that would be a bald-faced lie. I was DRIVING in my heated sedan.  I just didn't want you to get the wrong picture. As I was saying, by the time I arrived at the peak, IN MY CAR, it was 30 degrees.  I stopped periodically to take shots of the vista, and closeups of the leaves. My fingers were freezing, my nose running, and my face grinning. I was so happy to be outdoors (intermittently) and to be driving up my favorite mountain while it was still autumn, calendar-wise, anyway.

There was a light dusting of snow on the road that seemed to be heavier the higher I went, which makes sense.  So in case you don't want to brave the elements, or worse, you miss the brief window of time that the leaves are still on the trees, I will share my shots with you.  Enjoy, in the privacy and comfort of your home.