Too Many Photographs

It seems that the combination of a few factors has resulted in my having far too many photos on my computer. I can't keep up with them!

Frank recently got himself a new camera - the same but upgraded version of the one he gifted me with a couple of years back. Along with that lovely machine, he purchased two wonderful lenses which are fully interchangeable with the two fantastic lenses I have. This means that on the days when we're together we each have four incredible lenses from which to choose, and we tend to approach this novelty much like a couple of kids entering a candy store. Neither of us has stopped snapping pics everywhere we go. Combine this with the lovely weather we've been experiencing and you can imagine how many photographs are just waiting to be shared. Far more than my usual planned blog posts of twice a week plus Wednesday's POTW.

Sooooooooo, I've decided to start posting a bit more often. I'm not going to commit to a schedule. I'm just going to try to set some posts more often and attend to the POTW as usual (when time permits) on Wednesdays. This way, I can share my photos with you before so many weeks have passed that we're into autumn and I'm still trying to catch up with spring.

And with these new blogging intentions in mind, here are a few images which still show some early spring growth. Though we're well into flowers which have blossomed profusely and fully-foliated trees, I still had these baby buds waiting to be shared.

And so I shall.

Tulips are long gone, but this one was particularly pretty and needed to live on in a photograph.

More tulips - after a small rainfall.

One month ago, trees were still rather sparsely decorated with blossoms and young leaves. Here's one of my favourite views - looking out at the pond on a hazy day.

New growth was still emerging from the tips of branches everywhere - like here.

And here. If you look closely, you can see a couple of raindrops clinging to the tiny buds.

I liked how light and shadow played with these slender leaves.

One of two wonderful willows which mark either end of the pond. They look beautiful in the late day sunlight - particularly in spring and autumn.

October Gold

October is the golden month.

Leaves change from deep greens to yellow, gold, orange and fiery red. It's the gold tones which bring magic to the days and enchantment as the sun sets at night. Please join me for a series of golden images taken around my home, Frank's area and up near the cottage. Sit down and I'll pour you a glass of golden mulled cider to keep the chill off.

On our way up to the cottage last week, I noticed this restored railroad caboose and quickly snapped a shot through my side window - hence the glassy appearance. (please click to enlarge)

There weren't too many moments of sunshine while we were away, but occasional snippets of sunlight illuminated the trees' autumn colours. Benny and I took advantage of the cold, but dry moments and walked for a while. Rain soon forced us to head back to the cottage. (please click to enlarge)

Back home, I discovered the last rose of the season had just bloomed on the bush in front of my house. It only produces flowers for two limited growth periods each year. In late June, I usually get about a half dozen blooms at one time, and then nothing again until September, when I often see one or two buds reappear on the plant. There was just this single, lovely rose this time. (please click to enlarge)

A walk around the park revealed autumn's presence. This stem of Ash leaves had fallen and was resting on the bough of a Pine tree. (please click to enlarge)

As the late day sun began to set, it gave life to the changing trees and their brilliant reflections. Hopeful ducks swam toward me, wondering if I might have some bread, but soon realized I had nothing but my camera in hand, and a sigh on my lips. (please click to enlarge)

At Frank's place, we took our usual walks along the creek. Life is very different there through the autumn months, since the spawning salmon attract ridiculous numbers of anglers from around southern Ontario. The shores of the creeks are crowded with people trying to get their hooks into one of these huge beasts - and not always in the most ethical way. (please click to enlarge)

The salmon leap up the ladder to return to their birthplace and die. As you can see by the carcasses in the background, many don't make it. In their exhausted state, if they land in the wrong area, they often lack the strength to return to the water to try again. Others just keep trying... (please click to enlarge)

A few of the several thousand salmon trying to make their way upstream this year.

This is roe - eggs which have spilled out of a female while she was dragged away from the water's edge. Sometimes the salmon are gutted simply to acquire the eggs (which work well as bait for trout fishing) and are left to die and rot on the shores of the creek. It's a disgusting practice - particularly since a few eggs can often be coaxed out of a live fish. The creature can be returned to the water to resume her journey, none the worse for wear. (please click to enlarge)

These wonderful flowers are in full bloom along the pathway. They seemed to just appear overnight, which is quite impossible because they've grown to a height of about ten feet. From what I could gather from Google, I believe they're called Sunroot, Sunchoke or Jerusalem Artichoke. Of course they're not really an artichoke nor are they from Jerusalem. (please click to enlarge)

As evening fell, there was gold to be found in the sky above. (please click to enlarge)

Even the electric light which cast a warm, amber-toned glow on Frank's back deck provided us with yet another golden moment. (please click to enlarge)

I hope you enjoyed the tour of all things golden. More cider?