Autumn Close Up: A Photo Gallery

Over the past few weeks, I’ve posted a series of photos that I called “Single Frames: Autumn Close Up” — individual fall images paired with some reasonably relevant quotations, including a few “gothic” quotes as the days got shorter and darker and closed in on Halloween. I had originally picked out several dozen photos for this series, but I decided to stop at twenty and use the remaining photos a little differently in an upcoming blog post.

I’m working on that new post now; it will include additional autumn photos and some notes on reprocessing those photos with Lightroom and the Nik Collection. It will take me a few days to wrap that post up and prep the photos that go with it, so I thought in the meantime I’d assemble the “Single Frames: Autumn Close Up” images in a single gallery, which you can see below. I had started including all the quotes with the photos, but couldn’t find a good way to do that without creating a 20-foot long blog post.

If you’d like to see the original photos in this series with their quotations, I’ve tagged all twenty posts so they can be viewed together, here: Single Frames: Autumn Close Up.

They look kinda nice as a group like this; select the first image in the gallery to begin a slideshow.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!

Single Frame: Autumn Close Up #20

From John Muir Ultimate Collection: Travel Memoirs, Wilderness Essays, Environmental Studies and Letters by John Muir:

“Most of the plants have gone to seed; berries are ripe; autumn tints begin to kindle and burn over meadow and grove, and a soft mellow haze in the morning sunbeams heralds the approach of Indian summer.”

Single Frame: Autumn Close Up #19

From John Muir Ultimate Collection: Travel Memoirs, Wilderness Essays, Environmental Studies and Letters by John Muir:

“The grand color glow — the autumnal jubilee of ripe leaves — was past prime, but, freshened by the rain, was still making a fine show….”

Single Frame: Autumn Close Up #18

From John Muir Ultimate Collection: Travel Memoirs, Wilderness Essays, Environmental Studies and Letters by John Muir:

“The forests we so admired in summer seem still more beautiful and sublime in this mellow autumn light.”

Single Frame: Autumn Close Up #17

From John Muir Ultimate Collection: Travel Memoirs, Wilderness Essays, Environmental Studies and Letters by John Muir:

“The fir woods are delightful sauntering-grounds at any time of year, but most so in autumn. Then the noble trees are hushed in the hazy light, and drip with balsam; the cones are ripe, and the seeds, with their ample purple wings, mottle the air like flocks of butterflies; while deer feeding in the flowery openings between the groves, and birds and squirrels in the branches, make a pleasant stir which enriches the deep, brooding calm of the wilderness, and gives a peculiar impressiveness to every tree.”

Single Frame: Autumn Close Up #16

From the (very dark, extra-super-creepy, not for the squeamish, perfectly chilling for the day before Halloween but best not read at night) novel Zombie by Joyce Carol Oates:

“My name is Q__ P__ & I am thirty-one years old, three months. Height five feet ten, weight one hundred forty-seven pounds…. Distinguishing features: none….”

“I see my probation officer Mr. T__ alternate Thursdays 10 A.M., downtown Mt. Vernon. My therapist Dr. E__ Mondays 4 P.M., University Medical Center. Group therapy with Dr. B__ is Tuesdays 7 P.M. I am not doing well, I think…. I know they are writing reports. But I am not allowed to see. If one of these was a woman I would do better, I feel. They believe you, they are not always watching you. EYE CONTACT HAS BEEN MY DOWNFALL….”

“Mon. 4:00 P.M.-4:50 P.M. Mt. Vernon Medical Center on the other side of the campus, in good weather I walk & in bad weather drive…. Dr. E__ says ‘Well, Quentin. This brisk autumn air is a tonic isn’t it. After our long hot summer.’ There is a double meaning in this I know…. [It] is awkward in Dr. E__’s office. I sit across from his desk & stare at the floor. Or at my hands I have scrubbed. RAISINEYES’ wristwatch on my left arm & its bronze face secret where I watch the tiny numerals flashing bronze. & around my right wrist my solitary memento of SQUIRREL. Dr. E__ asks do I have any dreams to speak of today. There is a flurry of leaves against the window behind him & the sky is darkening so early….”

Single Frame: Autumn Close Up #15

From We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson:

“I shall weave a suit of leaves. At once. With acorns for buttons.”

Single Frame: Autumn Close Up #14

From the short story “Before Autumn” in Just an Ordinary Day: Stories by Shirley Jackson:

“All that summer she had been increasingly aware of the growing turbulence among the trees, and in the grasses, and around the hills; in the vegetable garden each morning there had been vague markings of snails, and the trees were less certain of their birds, somehow, she thought, and more noisy in the wind. That the paints had something to do with it she was certain; before the sudden violence of green in the paint box the grass flattened and grew bladed and pale, and the hills plunged mistily ahead of a purple so carefully compounded of blue, and red, and white, and sometimes, in the late afternoons, yellow.”

Single Frame: Autumn Close Up #13

From Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelley:

“Autumn passed thus. I saw, with surprise and grief, the leaves decay and fall, and nature again assume the barren and bleak appearance it had worn when I first beheld the woods and the lovely moon. Yet I did not heed the bleakness of the weather; I was better fitted by my conformation for the endurance of cold than heat. But my chief delights were the sight of the flowers, the birds, and all the gay apparel of summer; when those deserted me, I turned with more attention towards the cottagers…..”

[ … uh-oh, sounds like bad news for the cottagers…. ]