Between home and Ithaca (which is three hours north), one of my earliest autumn images comes from my front yard. Leaves on the maple tree there have been changing from green to flaming red and yellow since late August.
I’m challenged this year to keep my preserving and gardening in order. I’ve many apples needing to go into canning jars and at least two dozen perennials needing to get their roots into the ground. Ironically, because I’m distracted by obligations in Ithaca, I’ve had a lot of opportunities to enjoy the changing seasons.
Autumn has unfolded very slowly this year. We saw the first fall colors in August, and even in early November many trees are holding gorgeous yellow, orange, and red leaves. Between Lewisburg (home) and Ithaca (my dad’s home), I’ve taken many detours onto country roads to capture hillsides, valleys, and stands of trees. I hope you enjoy the sampling in this post.
On the east side of route 13 south of Ithaca stands a well-weathered barn near a wooded hillside. I’ve stopped along the road several times to capture photos.
An unlikely exit off of route 15 in northern Pennsylvania got me onto a side road with views to the north, east, and south. Here I aimed across route 15 to the northeast, capturing a small splash of autumn color in the foreground, and a sea of changing trees stretching to a row of windmills on a distant ridge.
While blatant autumn flare draws my attention, subtle fall colors also get me jazzed. An ancient oak flexing in the woods above Cayuga Lake provides engaging counterpoint to the blaze of colors peeking out from behind.
Trees naturally change colors and textures in autumn, and farm fields change along with them. The margins between crops produce visual interest, and the juxtaposition of human-tall, cylindrical hay bales add whimsy. Over the years I’ve photographed almost as many of these giant bales as I have tomato blossoms.
One of my favorite autumn scenes emerges after the first serious frost of the season: cucurbit vines die and shrivel to the ground within hours leaving pumpkins high and dry. Usually by this point there’s not much demand for pumpkins; I shot this scene just three days before Halloween. These orange globes will probably feed someone’s hogs.