Thursday, October 15, 2009
As you may have read a few days ago, we took a last minute drive to Maine over the weekend, holding our cameras at the ready. As is my wont, I took shot after shot--the blending hues of the foliage palette, a row of apples trees shaken of fruit, clouds chasing the sunlight over a gray Lake Sebago--even Portland Head Light at Fort Williams where we pulled in next to a busload of leaf peepers and where we’ve taken hundreds of pictures over the years. Nothing spoke to me as the perfect photo, or even a superior shot, but it was still good fun.
Then, back in Massachusetts--ten minutes from home on a curving back road that we’ve traveled countless times, I plotted to take a picture of this pond. Expecting a wash of fall colors, the camera sat in my lap, but when we turned the corner to view the water spread out beside us, the trees stood subdued, a tired green verging to yellow, swamp plants pointing crippled brown fingers up from the farthest shore. The water barely rippled though, so cognizant of the car behind us we pulled over and I took three rapid shots--unaware of the mirror image until I downloaded the photos to the computer the next day.
We traveled well over 300 miles during the course of the weekend, but five miles from home we found the best picture—and another reminder that upon reflection, things are often better than at first they seem.