*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.

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.

Marysvale: Up Close and Natural

Rustic, Rural, and Real...

That's Marysvale!

Welcome to Marysvale.  See that green roof just beyond the yellow flowers in the distance?  It is our privilege to call that house our home.  Marysvale is a sleepy little town nestled at the mouth of Bullion Canyon.  I love the dark night sky here that doesn't compete with neon or city lights.  I love the pastoral scenes, and the good people.  I love the sagebrush, flowers, trees, and even the weeds.  I love the deer, the turkeys, the rabbits, the fox, and the owl that visit our home.

This old building is my ONE MILE turnaround spot.

Today, I just want to share some of the pictures I have captured trying to "live in the moment" here.  You may laugh at my weeds and "my" shack, but it's all good.  This place feels like home to me, even the wild, unkempt parts.  Every season captivates me.  I love the sunshine, the rain, the snow, the fog, the sunsets, and the sunrises.  Everything feels so fresh and clean here.  It is a good life.  A good life indeed.

(The pictures are in no particular order, and
some of the captions were written when the
pictures were taken.)

Several metal crafters live nearby.
Margaret, this one's for you!

Even the weeds capture my curiosity.

How can you not fall in love with this place?

"Grandma" lives on my friend Pam's porch.  She seemed quite perturbed
when I interrupted her nap to take her picture.

Wish I could identify all of the flora and fauna.  Queen
Anne's Lace?

Hiking to Bullion Falls is a favorite activity.

My goal is to capture the beauty of the Rocky
Mountain Bluebird.  This picture fails at that miserably.

When the fog settles over our mountain like a soft, white, winter shawl, I'm glad to be indoors, enjoying the view where it's warm.

It's not the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, but it has a beauty of its own.

The remnants of yesterday's raindrops are dripping off the eaves The sun slips in and out of the clouds as the thick fog that had settled over the valley floor and wrapped around the base of the mountains slowly rises toward the light blue sky. The trees have the open pasture surrounded in a halo of golden leaves. If only autumn could linger in the canyon a little longer.

Quaking aspens...the gold mines may lie empty and dormant, but Bullion Canyon is still full of gold in the fall.

Happy Fall, y'all! Everything I love is here...the golden aspens, the reddening Rocky Mountain maples, the cool mornings, the perfect days. I look forward to wearing sweaters with my jeans, sitting on the deck in the predawn hour, listening to the aspens flutter in the breeze, and taking pictures of all that makes me happy. Of all the seasons, I fall in love the hardest for fall.

When our owl came back, it felt like a blessing from nature that all was right with the world.