Nurture Photography Finale

This autumn has been a season of many photographs. Taking part in the Nurture Photography Challenge has prompted me to take my camera with me whenever I leave the house and to really discover beauty in the detail. A a result of all that looking I've got a fairly comprehensive record of this moment in our lives.

From the early stirrings of the season at Equinox to the bare trees and bleak skies that are the accompanying features of our current wanderings, each mood is captured. The light and landscape have changed, low winter sun now slants louchely through almost naked branches, illuminating surviving vegetation in a random and magical manner. Temperatures have dropped, there's a sniff of Christmas in the air.

The boys and I have walked widely during our autumn adventures and re-visited many favourite spots. If I'm honest, it will be harder for us to find the enthusiasm to get ourselves out there when the world looks barren and wet from our window, but I know we'll find a rhythm and joy with our winter explorations eventually. Promises of hot chocolate upon returning to the house will help to encourage us to pull on our boots and brave the elements. No doubt I will take my camera and continue my lessons in looking.

 

I'm incredibly grateful to Bumbles and Light and Live and Love out loud for this opportunity to share a season with others and for providing inspiration and focus for my (very amateur!) photography. It's been a real treat to browse through such delicious pictures and see how other bloggers have documented the changing year.

Here's to the next challenge...

And the land waits with us

It is fully the season of decay. We've passed through the mellowness of late summer, the splendour of mid-autumn and arrived at the gate of winter. The trees are almost bare, a few fluttering leaves cling to otherwise empty branches. The ground is mud and mulch, waterproof shoes are no longer optional. Smoke spirals upwards from houses where the inhabitants of these valleys shut out the growing darkness and seek comfort in hearth and home.

Evenings are long and daylight scarce. The night-time frolics of Hallowe'en and Bonfire Night have been and gone. We make our peace with the months ahead. In these dark days we plan for the return of the light. We sow our seeds and nurture them, turning them over in our minds, watching them grow in our dreams, ready for the first licks of a clean spring wind.

We walk. To remind us that the land waits with us, to smell the rot and taste the damp. To feel the solidity beneath the soil, the great vastness of the earth under our feet. In this dark womb roots gather goodness to feed the growth of the future. We are supported, we are nourished.