Another shot from the recent misty morning. At this time of the year the woods undergo a slow deflation until we are left with stripped perennial trees, shrunken shrubs and the hardy evergreens.
It can be sad to watch this transition, but there is consolation. There is always beauty if you look for it, even in death. I often take photographs of dead leaves and withered flowers because I think they possess a different kind of allure.
The above photograph is of a dead perennial sowthistle, caught with cold drops glistening on its white hair. In every moment, even towards the end, joy is possible.
I didn’t walk the woods today as my parents have temporary custody of Minnie, my dog, since I’m heading up to Dublin for Octocon this weekend.
The house is oddly empty. No clattering of claws on the hallway floorboards every time I get out of my chair, no heavy head and wet nose poking my hand to urge me to play or feed her, and no doleful looks and weary sighs at the lack of doing whatever she wants me to do.
In a few days, all will be back to normal.
Until then we will both enjoy our separate holidays.