This pair of mourning doves have taken up residence outside my window. Mom, below, is looking puffy. We all know what that means. Dad is keeping a watchful eye above.
It must have been Papa Bear foraging for the first time in the season, judging by the size of the footprints. The tracks are what he left behind across my backyard and down the hill to the neighbors.
The same scene in color and then in black-and-white — one closer, one pulled back — convey very different moods. I always find black-and-white more expressive. How about you? For another view, check out Susan Reinberg’s post of the photo she made at the same spot.
I was drawn to the weaving back and forth of the fence line and the tall grasses trapped inside. The fence seemed to go on forever, fading into the distance.
The sun breaking through made me stop at this familiar spot to capture, yet again, an eloquent image of winter.
The bins of miniature pumpkins and mixed gourds framed the doorway at the shop at March Farms and inspired these photos of Autumn color.
The sun had dropped below the horizon, and the trail left by a jet heading into Kennedy airport 75 miles away was magically illuminated, piercing the clouds.
The tire swing is lying on the snow, the branch is broken. Below are views of more golden days. One wonders how long it has been since children actually played here.