I am slow in replying. These fall pictures now seem so nostalgic, so lush with fall's beauty, especially today, waiting for freezing rain with snow covering the ground. Looking at your pictures I can almost smell that delightful dry leaf smell, autumn's last hurrah! When the weather is particularly miserable, I will look again at these photos and remember autumn's incredible beauty!
I like the way you captured the walk down the narrow winding road John - the photos as well as your thoughts. I find that a walk in nature like that can be so refreshing - both physically and mentally. Thanks for sharing!
John, thinking about your comment regarding interconnectedness, possibly our 'primitive' fore-bearers were right in thinking that everything comes from the sun. Just imagine no light, no heat. Not much life without that sun. Little wonder the sun was worshiped.
John, I thoroughly enjoyed this “walk with you,” and I savoured your philosophical look at the subjects you were shooting, as well as honouring their place in the larger scheme of life in the universe. The photos are wonderful, with crisp detail, warm colours, and magical captures that evoke a sense of the mystical that I experienced in Yorkshire years ago at a site that had mythical history. The colour, patterns and texture of the water in the photo showing the gut area are mesmerizing.
Your essay exudes a sense of quiet patience and respect for all life; a position I’m sure you’ve always held though now accentuated by the experience of deep loss. There were many wonderful and inspired statements. I especially liked, “Sometimes a walk is simply a walk. The company and conversation was good and I was wise enough that day to be grateful for that alone.” Again, a sign of the true appreciation, the gratitude that comes forth when one is broken open by grief, and allows the process to follow its natural course. Which kind of relates to, “That’s kind of like life isn’t it? We go forward not knowing what our journey may bring. There may be delight or danger, the spectacular and the mundane. Likely we will find a bit of all of these things, but only if we are willing to risk the journey. But to stand there and look at it without moving hardly seems an option at all. So let us press onward and see what this road less travelled brings.”
I appreciate how you also wove in acknowledgement of Indigenous ways of being, honouring and teaching, and the sense of spiritual reverence you have for these places.
You mention the notion of stepping into a painting, and looking at the pictures also gave me that impression many times. I always wonder if comparing a photographer’s work to a painter’s is a compliment or otherwise. I suppose one might say in response, if I wanted to pain a picture, I would have; but I doubt that is how you’d feel, as you yourself mentioned it in the article.
Looking through the photos another time as I re-read, I am again absorbed by the warmth and a kind of comfort that the beauty offers me. Of course, the next feeling that rises is a wish to be there to witness the scene in person. Maybe someday. Until then, I’m grateful for the guided and illustrated tour.
The song is a new one for me. I’ve always enjoyed Manfred Mann’s Earth Band, especially Chris Thompson’s vocals, and this piece was very cool with its unique structure and characteristics, perhaps like your “tree hugging” walk.
A wonderful entry, John. I also love to wander down an unassumed road, especially in fall. Your images are gorgeous, and your writing is inspiring. Thanks for sharing. Pat
Thank You Pat. As an accomplished writer and photographer yourself, it seems to me Substack would be a good platform for you as well. You might ask Andy about it. You are already registered. Why not give it a try?
I am slow in replying. These fall pictures now seem so nostalgic, so lush with fall's beauty, especially today, waiting for freezing rain with snow covering the ground. Looking at your pictures I can almost smell that delightful dry leaf smell, autumn's last hurrah! When the weather is particularly miserable, I will look again at these photos and remember autumn's incredible beauty!
Thank You Linda. Yes, Winter is a cruel mistress.
That was a beautiful walk in the woods, John, and thanks for taking us along with you.
Thank You Mark and thank you for joining me.
I felt as if I were on the journey with you…your images, your words so perfectly capture the day. Thank you. 🙏
Thank You Carol Anne
I like the way you captured the walk down the narrow winding road John - the photos as well as your thoughts. I find that a walk in nature like that can be so refreshing - both physically and mentally. Thanks for sharing!
Thanks Andy
John, thinking about your comment regarding interconnectedness, possibly our 'primitive' fore-bearers were right in thinking that everything comes from the sun. Just imagine no light, no heat. Not much life without that sun. Little wonder the sun was worshiped.
"We are stardust
Billion year old carbon"
John, I thoroughly enjoyed this “walk with you,” and I savoured your philosophical look at the subjects you were shooting, as well as honouring their place in the larger scheme of life in the universe. The photos are wonderful, with crisp detail, warm colours, and magical captures that evoke a sense of the mystical that I experienced in Yorkshire years ago at a site that had mythical history. The colour, patterns and texture of the water in the photo showing the gut area are mesmerizing.
Your essay exudes a sense of quiet patience and respect for all life; a position I’m sure you’ve always held though now accentuated by the experience of deep loss. There were many wonderful and inspired statements. I especially liked, “Sometimes a walk is simply a walk. The company and conversation was good and I was wise enough that day to be grateful for that alone.” Again, a sign of the true appreciation, the gratitude that comes forth when one is broken open by grief, and allows the process to follow its natural course. Which kind of relates to, “That’s kind of like life isn’t it? We go forward not knowing what our journey may bring. There may be delight or danger, the spectacular and the mundane. Likely we will find a bit of all of these things, but only if we are willing to risk the journey. But to stand there and look at it without moving hardly seems an option at all. So let us press onward and see what this road less travelled brings.”
I appreciate how you also wove in acknowledgement of Indigenous ways of being, honouring and teaching, and the sense of spiritual reverence you have for these places.
You mention the notion of stepping into a painting, and looking at the pictures also gave me that impression many times. I always wonder if comparing a photographer’s work to a painter’s is a compliment or otherwise. I suppose one might say in response, if I wanted to pain a picture, I would have; but I doubt that is how you’d feel, as you yourself mentioned it in the article.
Looking through the photos another time as I re-read, I am again absorbed by the warmth and a kind of comfort that the beauty offers me. Of course, the next feeling that rises is a wish to be there to witness the scene in person. Maybe someday. Until then, I’m grateful for the guided and illustrated tour.
The song is a new one for me. I’ve always enjoyed Manfred Mann’s Earth Band, especially Chris Thompson’s vocals, and this piece was very cool with its unique structure and characteristics, perhaps like your “tree hugging” walk.
Thanks for sharing the beauty.
You have come to know me well Steve. Thank you for your attention and caring.
It's a gift to know you, John. Thank you, and thanks for how you share your journey in such an inviting way.
Beautiful photos John! So nice to travel on the road less traveled with you.
Thank You Pamela. So nice to share with you all. My best wishes to you.
Beautiful!
Thank You
Love these photos, John!!
Thanks Jerry.
A wonderful entry, John. I also love to wander down an unassumed road, especially in fall. Your images are gorgeous, and your writing is inspiring. Thanks for sharing. Pat
Thank You Pat. As an accomplished writer and photographer yourself, it seems to me Substack would be a good platform for you as well. You might ask Andy about it. You are already registered. Why not give it a try?