The absolute straightness, the hard edges, the solid shapes of this world break up into quiet waves when reflected in still water. I think of water as symbolic of our subconscious. Does the world break up into quiet waves when reflecting in the subconscious? And what happens when the water is disturbed? The reflections dissipate into unrecognizable patterns, retaining little of their worldly structure. I am uncomfortable during a disturbance, and yet that is when exciting things happen, when new paradigms are found, when an old worldview is surprised that a new worldview has formed.
Through the visual tumble of branches, lingering leaves hold their own, last relics of a wild summer.
Autumn dazzles us with color, one last explosion before the bare trees and white coverlet sets in. Oh, how I love autumn. Oh, how I love the firey colors, the settled coolness, the breathy crispness. I savor autumn and relish its one last gift before winter.
I see the stairs, the steps to…something…. They are hugged by autumn-colored ivy, making the path beautiful. I stare up, and I wonder what I’ll meet beyond the top.
The ground is strewn with cast-off color as trees raise their skeletal limbs to the sky, twisted and grieved. October is for cemeteries. Over the years I have visited many cemeteries and captured their many personalities. The following are just a few of my favorites:
Throughout the rest of this month, I will be uploading cemetery photos to my Flickr account. Please visit.