North of Monticello
I have a handful of friends and family who I hear from around this time every year. It usually begins with emails, arriving in mid-October, with subject lines like “Has it started yet?” and “Almost Time!” They’re people who, for one reason or another, now live in places where they have no autumn to speak of, no explosion of fall color like we have in Virginia.
Number one is always my dad. My folks live at the beach below Charleston, where the salt marshes turn straight from emerald to muddy brown, and the only trees are palmetto and pine that stay green all year. And there are friends on the coast in California where the seasons never really change, where it’s either always sunny or always foggy.
So these pictures are for them, the homesick ones, so they can remember what it’s like. All were taken around our house, or on the way to work.
Pond, in the field behind our house
The Red Gate
Master of the Hounds
Murder of Crows