Glorious Mailbox on a Rainy Day

Glorious Mailbox on a Rainy Day
Originally uploaded by CaptPiper.

You can wait and wait for the October sun to shine so you can enjoy a picture-taking expedition. But eventually you have to go take your photos anyway, because if you wait for conditions to be perfect, the autumn will pass and the color will disappear and the leaves will all lie rotting on the ground.
So Sunday I spent a little time in my car in the country in the rain. With my camera.

Two years ago I was on my way to school on a foggy morning, driving down this road when I saw this same mailbox glorified. There were beams of sunlight coming through the fog and lighting it up as if it was visited by an angelic mailman.
Here is that photo:

The Raisin

The Raisin
Originally uploaded by CaptPiper.

A chain of dark, cold and rainy days was broken, however briefly, yesterday as the sun peeked through gray clouds just long enough for me to go down to the river with my camera. I came back covered with mud and little seed burrs, but it was worth it.
Fall is so beautiful, but so transcient.
And when this goes, I might as well just shoot black and white.

Autumn Days for Me

Autumn Days
Originally uploaded by CaptPiper.

Diane and I went for a hike on Saturday. It was a beautiful day - a little chilly, but really nothing to complain about. Somewhere along the path I lost my glasses. I think they fell out of my camera bag when I was taking the camera out to take a shot. We went back to look for them, but no luck. I left my name and a description of the lost glasses at the main desk of Hidden Lake Gardens: brown plastic frames, really old eye glasses.
Two days earlier, on Thursday, I had renewed my driver's license. I flunked the without-glasses eye test, so the lady at the secretary of State's office ruthlessly, unhesitatingly, and without an ounce of pity, remorse or guilt about her actions, changed my license from "no restrictions" to "corrective lenses".

So now I can't drive. My sixteen-year-old son is chaffeuring me around like a blind grandmother until my new glasses arrive.

Getting old is hell.