Fall Field Notes: A Change of Seasons No.9

 

Things feel very complicated. And then I remember I do not have to buy into every trend or influence or promise. Some really wonderful things are simple. Cherry tomatoes on the vine. A handmade pottery mug. Rearranging the pictures I already own to make my home feel updated. Fresh flowers.

Same old camera. 
Same old husband. 
Same old car. Same house.
Chili from the freezer for lunch. 
Do I sound old? 
What does old even sound like? 
Maybe everything old is new again. 

No.9 | sugar bomb cherry tomato vine

Fall Field Notes: A Change of Seasons No.8

No. 8 | planting bulbs for next spring

 

In Fall Field Notes, I want to show you my little corner of the world. I take pictures of the environment I live in and the things I actually do. Familiarity has a way of making things invisible, and this can make us lose sight of the good life we already have. The only way I know to counter this natural tendency is to take notice, creating a kind of visual gratitude journal.

Even as we head into winter, I take delight in planning for the next good things. Lately, I’ve been getting some lovely inspiration from Lindsey Zovko and her substack, Garden and Gather. This week she demonstrated how to plant a bulb lasagna. Essentially, you plant layers of spring bulbs in pot of soil mixed with poultry grit. You sit the pot outdoors where it will experience the weather conditions needed for the bulbs to bloom next spring, where you will have weeks of blooms from one spot.

These are the everyday things I hold onto.

Fall Field Notes: A Change of Seasons No. 7

 

These are ordinary days. A Saturday morning trip to the farmers market. A drive down a winding road. The quiet that sits, not between us, but with us. The joy in knowing—this is as good as life gets—and feeling content with things as they are.

No .7 | pumpkins at Spotsylvania farmers market

Fall Field Notes: A Change of Seasons No.6

No. 6 | wild persimmon tree behind Berea Christian Church

I have visited this tree every week this autumn. As much as I love the tree, it is very difficult to photograph. Today, rainy and overcast, the leaves falling steadily, persimmons still clinging to branches, I thought maybe I could make a photograph worthy of the scene. Picture- taking involved a rain jacket and boots, a step ladder, and a lens swap. My camera’s auto focus struggled to find focus on a tiny persimmon without much contrast against a variety of complicated and cluttered backgrounds. Not easy, but still very fun.