Some years the foliage is just not as dramatically colorful as others (not the case this year!), and some years the water is too low or too high, and the light, of course, is not always perfect—too bright, too dark, too sunny or not sunny enough. But when all things come together, and I can manage to get there when all is perfect, oh my, I can easily make a couple hundred images in an hour, most well worth enjoying for a long while.
I will note, however, it is also true that, if my camera failed in some way to record even a single image, I’d not leave unsatisfied because standing in the moving water seeing the magic is just a glorious experience.
It is true the camera sees in ways they eye does not—stopped in movement—and the eye sees things the camera cannot and leads me to where I can hope, and sometimes predict, an image will work.
The Red Maple, White Ash, Yellow Birch all share their colors, and when the leaves fall, the bare branches also add their measure.
It is the water that brings it all together and, while this little stream is by no means unique, it is special in the way the water can move. But it takes being in the water—shallow, cold and slippery-bottomed—changing my point of view ever so slightly to have the image reveal itself.
And even then some are successful—by my definition—and many others not so much. The choosing which to delete and which to work with has become easier over the years, the adjustments made in Lightroom—no longer in the dark—are simple and part of my vision.
All along the way I learn to see more, everywhere, even without a camera, a gift from this little stream on a Fall day for which I am grateful.