Ponder this:

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Early October, early evening


Jacqueline Donnelly said...


Friko said...

There you are, the things that are yours for the asking, if only you get yourself out there.

Rose ~ from Oz said...

Such a mysterious edge to these lovely photos June, which left me feeling pensive :)

Barb said...

A photo-story. I like what you're seeing. I hope you were walking while snapping.

rachel said...

Loveliest month, loveliest time of day. Thank you.

Muffy's Marks said...

Beautiful photos, clearly winter is on its way!!

DJan said...

Ah, lovely. The fall season is filled with life going to sleep for the winter. These pictures show all that somehow.

Olga said...

Gathering in. I love how the fog settles like that.

mistah charley, ph.d. said...

Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote

“Woods, A Prose Sonnet”

Wise are ye, O ancient woods! wiser than man.
Whoso goeth in your paths or into your thickets where no paths are,
readeth the same cheerful lesson whether he be a young child or a hundred years old.
Comes he in good fortune or bad, ye say the same things, & from age to age.
Ever the needles of the pine grow & fall, the acorns on the oak, the maples redden in autumn,
& all times of the year the ground pine & the pyrola bud & root under foot.
What is called fortune & what is called Time by men—ye know them not.
Men have not language to describe one moment of your eternal life.
This I would ask of you, o sacred Woods, when ye shall next give me somewhat to say,
give me also the tune wherein to say it.
Give me a tune of your own like your winds or rain or brooks or birds;
for the songs of men grow old when they have been often repeated,
but yours, though a man have heard them for seventy years, are never the same, but always new,
like time itself, or like love.