Pre-camera years, I bemoaned the arrival of Autumn as Winter’s harbinger. The lens, however, has the magical ability to transform one’s perceptions. Suddenly, I have new appreciation for golden forests, and white flowers lingering against a backdrop of fallen leaves:
Even the robin, typically associated with the onset of Spring, exudes new charm amid the oranges of this inspiring season.
(For Nancy Merrill’s A Photo A Week Challenge: open topic.)
Ric knows how to pull me out of my doldrums. Despite the cold wind, the day is not without merit. We drive to another small town, just thirty minutes away. Here, wetlands and a wooded trail attract a multitude of birds.
I snap a few pics of the small wading birds near the shore, but my heart is not in it. The sky is catching my attention today.
Heavy Autumn clouds hover, mirroring my sense of doom at Winter’s arrival. I know I have to fight this darkness. I wander down the trail, lost in my inner battle. A woodpecker drums nearby, but I haven’t the energy to look for him. I gaze upwards, a silent prayer for strength.
Despite the heavy cloud cover, the sun breaks through casting a shimmer across the water. I raise my lens capturing the moment. Even in its moodiness, Autumn has a special allure. I need to stay focused in the now – finding something to be grateful for each day.
Clouds reflected remind me that how we experience life is guided by how we set our lens.
I must remember, each day, to set my lens on miracles, no matter how small.
(Photos taken in Mitchell, Ontario, at the West Perth Wetlands.)