When I read Terry Grant's post about the gorgeous fall we've been having in Portland, Oregon, I almost just sent you to her site. She stole my fire — and my blog post idea, too. Not that that's so surprising; we do live in the same place, after all.
But then I looked at my photos and decided that all was not lost. I take different photos of fall than Terry does, even though I have equal amounts of abject adoration of its colors:
This looks like the usual fall color photo — with the addition of the bike, the fire hydrant, cars, and utility wires. But aren't those grasses yummy.
Even when Hawthorne fills the camera's screen with debris, there's still no denying the advent of the color.
And southeast Grand Avenue's bars can't match the maple across the street.
I have a couple more that I couldn't resist, but I'll put them in the continuum. I wouldn't want to show Terry up <snort> June
I was particularly fond of the one above, particularly as I had just been complimented on my photo processes a moment before, when I took this next one:
This one is nice, but there's something very zen about the glimpse of beauty amidst the debris of the quotidian — telephone poles, posters for rock bands, graffiti on the back of a walk light — and a blaze of oak leaves.