Posted in Creativity, Home Stuff, Inspiration, Nature, Photography, Reflections, tagged Delaware River, nature, nature photography, neighborhood, photography, Trees on November 7, 2016|
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It’s always a bit of a surprise when the clock turns back to “regular” time and it starts getting dark earlier. We know it’s coming and why, but it’s never fails to be an adjustment. It seems the most clear demarcation of the end of all things blooming and the deepest step towards winter.
I was determined to give my camera and myself a little exercise Sunday, but was not prepared for the sun already setting lower at 2:30 in the afternoon. The sky was alternately blustery grey, bright blue, or streaked with layered clouds. You can see the Delaware River in the background as I walked parallel to it heading north. The tracks once connected all of the river towns on the Jersey side, and I hear rumors from time to time of their being restored.
It’s funny how you can pass the same thing so many times and yet not truly notice it. These old doors belong to a 2-story stone garage. What’s interesting is the structure is completely made of stone and mortar except for over the doors, where it appears to be made of odd, stone-like shapes of brick. It’s most unusual and makes me wonder what purpose this was once used for. The space is big enough to have housed at least one horse stall, but it seems more suited as a garage. The style of stonework is really quite old.
Lately I find myself noticing all kinds of textures. The worn paint and the rusted hinges enchanted me. I think I could have taken dozens of photographs of just the front of this structure, maybe even of the doors themselves.
The front, looking up. I love the stone windowsill and the wooden lintel. Someone has been keeping up with the concrete repair around the stone and brickwork.
The sky was such a changing mix of things, but the river seemed moody and sullen. No lovers tarried on the bridge this afternoon.
Skies looked brighter in the east. A few lone hangers-on from some type of shrub waved in the breeze. Orange leaves drifted down, speckling a surprisingly still verdant lawn.
The sun cast long shadows as I continued to walk. So many beautiful old trees in this area, not cut or abolished as you see in so many of the newly developed tracts. Here trees have their place and are appreciated for their beauty, their shade, and for the part they play in creating a place people like for its coziness and charm. I could walk – and take photographs – all day.
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Posted in Home Stuff, Inspiration, Life, Nature, Photography, Reflections, tagged Autumn, Delaware River, Fall, Mums, pumpkins on September 26, 2013|
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It has been a lovely Fall so far … crisp, sunny days with a light chill at night, not quite cold enough to turn on the heat, but chilly enough to warrant a warm blanket or quilt.
On morning walks the leaves seem to whisper that no matter how green they are now, they soon will be slipping into golds, crimsons and pale, dusky rose.
Pumpkins and mums announce the onset of Fall, and the river glides lazily towards the sea, resplendent surrounded by her last-of-summer greens.
The smile that flickers on baby’s lips when he sleeps — does anyone know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumor that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning. ~ Rabindranath Tagore
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Posted in Creativity, Home Stuff, Nature, Photography, tagged bridges, Charles Roebling, Delaware River, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, photography on September 6, 2013|
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The air was too crisp and the sunshine too bright to not go for a morning walk. And it was worth it … the Delaware was celebrating the day as well.
This humble bridge connecting Pennsylvania and New Jersey was originally constructed in 1842.
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Yesterday was my day to go to my accountant. It’s about a 45 minute drive, and as any 45 minute drive in this part of the state will assure you, there were many beautiful vistas of farmland, woods, ponds, small towns, etc. I hadn’t expected the lovely fog I encountered, the mist lying low on acres of land threaded with rows of trees. I really need to remember to bring my camera.
The land is just so beautiful in all seasons, and although I may have been late by a moment or two, I would have loved to capture some of yesterday morning’s soft edges. Years ago, when I was in art school we had an ongoing assignment – always have your sketchbook with you. When that morphed into my majoring in photography, the assignment was to always have your camera with you. It was meant to keep our artistic tools as integral parts of our lives, and is something that fell by the wayside. It would be a good habit to revive. Both, actually … my sketchbook and my camera.
So having failed to capture any of the lovely scenery I passed yesterday, and unable to photograph the goodies I picked up from the Italian bakery in my accountant’s town, (because I ate them), I have included a photo I took of the Delaware in the fall, taken from the almost-PA side of the bridge.
Tomorrow they’re predicting rain, but I’ll be in a quaint town, and who knows where a photo may be waiting.
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There’s not much I could possibly say about Hurricane Irene that hasn’t been said 50 ways from Sunday, but I can post a couple photos of what the Delaware River looks like post-Hurricane. I went out this morning to take a look – fast-moving, brown, and carrying all manner of tree and other debris. This is already post-crest stage, but the Delaware is so high as to have inundated trees, docks and some buildings across the way in PA. I had taken some photos awhile back, thinking it was high then – which it was – but what could be seen on the PA side in March 2008 – not even visible.
The Delaware in March 2008
The Delaware August 29, 2011
And a different view taken from the nearby bridge to PA, looking northwest, taken in February 2009
And although in a different season, it can be seen that after Hurricane Irene, the bases of all trees are totally submerged. Those of us who live so close to the Delaware River continue to be thankful that the lay of the land is such that she has never, since 1955, approached our homes.
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I have had a 100 things to blog about, all swimming, swirling in my head. But at the moment am coping with something else, and the thoughts are just not solidifying. (One thing I want to write about, having just seen Where the Wild Things Are and finished reading Coraline, is about what happens when children’s books become movies. Stay tuned …) So when inspired writing fails and I still have a ton of work on my desk, what to do? Take a few pictures …
These photos are taken without me walking more than 100′ from my front door. The first, my neighbors across the street, taken from my front porch. Not much wind today, but Old Glory always looks so nice in all the seasons.
My caddy-corner neighbors …. their fence is always lined with some kind of blooming flowers, daffodils, lilies, and in the fall, white shasta daisies
My front porch … have to have something of fall there! Each year the local deer inevitably take down whatever live flowers I put on the steps, but I will prevail! Or at least I’m trying – my neighbors had success in protecting their Hostas with Deer-Out, (nothing horrible in the way of ingredients), which is no small accomplishment, so I’m giving it a try. Doesn’t bother next door’s cats, so it must be deer-specific. Time will tell.
Looking down my short block from in front of my house … I’m on the corner. At the very end, if you look carefully, you will see a spot of blue/grey. That’s the Delaware River. I’m happy to live near a river, near any water, really. I’m very happy for the little town I live in and how un-modernized it is. Real people with real small stores and local friendliness. I’m lucky. Grateful, too.
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It was a long, grey, stormy day in which torrents of rain fell hour after hour. Puddles swelled into small lakes in the streets. There was no point in getting the mail. Each momentary letting up was quickly followed by sheets of rain cascading from the sky. It had been predicted to end around 5 pm, and indeed small patches of brightness blew in and right on out, chased by more, though shorter, bursts of rain.
In one of those brief intermissions, I caught sight of the Delaware River at the end of my block. Lying between her banks, as there often is in damp weather, was a cloud. No fog brushed the earth, just a cloud exhaling on top of the waters. I ran down with my camera – it was nearly gone by the time I got there, but still visible.
And then came the wind. No sooner had the rain stopped and pushed in an obligatory patch or two of sun, than extraordinarily high speed winds whipped through the trees, dislodging anything not secured on the ground. Electrical failures began switching off lights all over the area. I was thankful – mine stayed on. Between the rain and the winds, the Delaware was predicted to reach flood stage at some points along its banks nearby.
Here, late Sunday afternoon, the sun was heading down in the blue western sky and the Delaware rushed madly by. Brown-ish blue, the water was very high and its speed dangerous. But in all its moods, whether languidly dreaming or racing to the sea, the river is a richness and a gift to be near.
Just in … my friend who had been up visiting last year had also taken a beautiful photo of the river. It was summer and the Delaware was in her glory.
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