That’s 2 for ’22

As indicated a couple of days ago, I went out very early Tuesday morning to catch the total lunar eclipse, the second for 2022, and just less than six months apart to boot.The next total lunar eclipse won’t be until March 2025, because whoever schedules these things is wobbly, but there will be a partial lunar not quite a year from now (for this area, anyway,) and a total solar eclipse in April of 2024. That won’t be quite here, but neither was the last, and I have friends in the totality band so I intend to be visiting them when that one occurs. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

total lunar eclipse of November 2022 beginning
Because of the early hour of the morning when this was going to occur, and the fact that The Girlfriend and I were scheduled to leave on a trip a little later on that day, and the fact that I already have lots of photos of a lunar eclipse starting, I didn’t arrange to get to my viewing spot until just after the umbral phase began, which is the bit where an eclipse is obvious. I used this time to shoot numerous frames on manual focus and examine them closely in the LCD preview at high magnification, to know that I had focus sharp; when it comes to lunar details, autofocus (or at least my own) isn’t precise enough to trust, so I fuss with it until it’s as sharp as I can arrange.

total lunar eclipse of November 2022 roughly 1/3 progressed
A short ways in, I switched to using the 2x teleconverter, which with the Tamron 150-600 provides somewhere around 1000mm focal length. But the teleconverter has a faint color cast to it, not noticeable in most circumstances but visible in moon shots back-to-back. It would be easy enough to correct, and not even worth the bother – I could assume that the moon should be neutral grey and still be dead wrong, due to atmospheric filtering.

comparison of partial lunar eclipse to normal crescent phase moonNow we have a pair of comparison frames, of the eclipse on top and a similarly-shaped crescent phase on the bottom. If you know moon phases, there’s really only one small bracket of time during an eclipse when it might be mistaken for a normal moon phase, because the Earth’s shadow isn’t shaped properly to match the shadowed moon except for one period of time – granted, this lasts for a few minutes so it doesn’t require exquisite timing. But these two frames show that they really can’t be mistaken for one another if you’re familiar with the moon, because the shadows of lunar geography thrown by the oblique sun angle in normal moon phases aren’t present at all during an eclipse. It also shows why full moon shots are far more boring that partial phases, when the details really stand out, even as small as I’m showing here.

Then there’s also the trait that moon phases have a really distinct terminator, the shadow line, while eclipses show much more of a gradient, and during this period you can see the effect of the penumbral shadow better, though it helps to have something to compare it against like this. For trivia’s sake, I’ll point out that the moon rarely passes directly through the middle of the Earth’s shadow, so the ‘phase’ mimicked by the eclipse is cocked out of line with the true lunar phase, but the moon also wobbles a bit so the true phases also wander, being aligned perfectly with the poles only two days out of every 28 – the match here is damn close and merely coincidental, though you can see the difference if you compare the mares carefully.

A little better than halfway to totality, I did an experimental frame:

total lunar eclipse of November 2022 overexposed before totality to capture earthshine
All during the advancement towards totality, there is still light from Earth reaching the shadowed side of the moon, and this becomes more noticeable as the eclipse progresses, though it’s a lot harder to photograph, and this demonstrates why. I changed exposure drastically to bring this out, but it was still too early to be doing this: the light from the uneclipsed portion blew out the exposure and caused glare and ghosts. Trying again a mere fifteen minutes later produced better results:

total lunar eclipse of November 2022 about 4/5 progressed
For the record, this is about 12 minutes before astronomical totality, though when you’re photographing at higher magnification, this distinction becomes noticeably arbitrary.

total lunar eclipse of November 2022 just into totality
This is about four minutes past reaching totality, and there remains an edge that shows more white light than red; the image from two days ago is right when ‘totality’ occurred, and you likely wouldn’t consider that one quite there yet. I’m comfortable that my timing is correct because I’d just reset my watch for DST idiocy and so it was compared against UTC, though I forgot to set the camera until I was out there during the eclipse.

total lunar eclipse of November 2022
This is 11 minutes later, and it appears brighter only because I was tweaking exposure to see what I could get without motion blur from the moon moving (or the Earth, to be pedantic, or both, to be astronomical.) This exposure was 1 full second at f6.3, ISO 1600, about the limits both to avoid motion blur and to prevent noise from overwhelming the frame. Though it was with the teleconverter which loses two stops of light, so that’s more like f13. For comparison, the first image in this post was at 1/200 second, f11, ISO 200 – accounting for the teleconverter, this means the image above was letting in 10.33 stops more light than the first, or over 1,000 times as much light (it doubles every stop.) If this seems ridiculously high, know that doubling light isn’t as drastic as it sounds – this image is 66% brighter than the one immediately above it, shot at f8 instead of f6.3, which is 2/3 of a stop.

While the moon was going to set while still eclipsed, I didn’t stick around for this. I had toyed with the idea of placing it alongside some distinct landmark or something scenic in the foreground, but the low level in the sky was going to hamper this – it’s too easy to be obscured by trees and buildings, and few landmarks in the area are particularly tall, nor in dark-sky conditions. Not to mention that the size of the moon doesn’t compare well against virtually anything, unless you can shoot those from a great distance as well so the moon is larger in perspective. So as the moon dropped lower, I switched the tripod quite low and framed the moon among some foreground bare tree branches.

total lunar eclipse of November 2022 through tree branches
I used my pocket flashlight to illuminate the branches, which were way too close to even try to get into focus, and shifted a little to place the moon in the gaps, kinda. This was as fartsy as I got, because I still needed a couple more hours of sleep to get out on the road later on. But if you search around, I’m sure you’ll find other examples where people made the effort to be more creative.

And yes, I have a handful of photos from the recent trip, so they’re on the way.

Oh, I can’t decide

While on a quest last week, which I’ll go into later, I got three very similar images faintly representative of autumn, and I’m agonizing over which is the best one to feature. So I’m putting them all up, and encouraging you to pick your favorite and ignore the others.

autumn leaves on Morgan Creek
These are all on Morgan Creek in Chapel Hill, which ran behind the apartment complex that I lived within when I first moved to NC, and I was trying to find the shooting location of a particular photo from many years ago. I was unsuccessful, but there are some clues in what I did capture (not these, of course,) that I might have come close.

autumn leaves on Morgan Creek
One of these has had its contrast boosted slightly – I’m not saying which one – but otherwise they are as shot. Well, okay, I cropped for stronger effect too. Happy now?

autumn leaves on Morgan Creek
They sky was bright and mostly clear, while the trees, being so close to the water, had advanced more in their autumn process than much of the surrounding area and had already shed too many leaves – I should have been there at least a week sooner, but the schedule didn’t play out for that. I did work with the reflections though, so make sure you take those into consideration.

I’d be back with the winning votes, if I had readers, but let’s put it this way – this is one election you have virtually locked. When are you going to get that chance again?

Quick proof

I don’t have a lot of time to work on posts right now, so I’m throwing this up just to prove that yes, I did indeed get out to capture the eclipse – wonderful morning for it. It would have been nice to find some foreground scenery to use as it set, but this wasn’t an easy thing to arrange in this area and I passed on it this time. So, this is the moon just as it was entering totality – I like the color range, from the faintly blue cast at the last vestiges of direct sunlight through to the deep red, the far edge of the moon almost disappearing in this exposure.

lunar eclipse just entering total phase
More to come…

Visibly different, part 45

adult white ibis Eudocimus albus in Merritt Island NWR
We open today with a fairly common yet distinctive bird around Florida, the American white ibis (Eudocimus albus.) A smallish bird for a wader, perhaps a hair larger than a crow in body size, but smaller than a duck, with the telltale curved red-orange bill and blue eyes – there are also black patches on the wings visible in flight, yet almost entirely hidden when they’re on foot. The curved beak helps them find small crustaceans and shellfish in the wetlands mud. This is also a callback to my brother’s recent visit here, because this was taken while he was visiting me during my tenure in Florida, 18 years ago, and is within Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge. In fact, it was only seven minutes later than the one below:

juvenile white ibis Eudocimus albus in Merritt Island NWR
This is what a juvenile of the same species looks like, and the background helps display why: they’re a lot harder to spot while they’re in their vulnerable early months – note also the dark eyes. Color changes like this make perfect sense, optimizing their survival. I would say the white adult plumage helps them with the heat of the subtropics, but then again there are plenty of birds, even further south, that bear dark plumage without issue, so this idea isn’t standing up. But we all know I’m not an ornithologist (or anything else, really.)

And now we get to more theory-wreckers.

adult little blue heron Egretta caerulea foraging on Indian River Lagoon
This is an adult little blue heron (Egretta caerulea,) perhaps a shade smaller and leaner than the ibis, but not notably. They’re easy to identify because nothing else in the area looks like this – the tri-colored heron bears some resemblance, but is larger, more mottled, and shows white patches. The little blues tended to be a lot scarcer and shyer than the ibises, and I have far fewer images of them. But then we get to the juveniles.

juvenile little blue heron Egretta caerulea showing mottled transitional plumage
The young little blues are all white, though this one is transitioning into its adult coloration, so it looks like a negative image of those jeans that are cool right now (or am I behind again?) and will be seen as stupid in a decade by kids the same age. However, why the juvies should be high-visibility white while the adults can at least blend into the shadows escapes me entirely. Both the juvenile and the adult were shot on the Indian River Lagoon, though kilometers apart, with the juvie still captured during my brother’s visit, and I think this is the only image I have of one. A key thing to look for here is the bill and eye area, as indigo as the adults, and this differentiates them from…

adult snowy egret Egretta thula in Merritt Island NWR
… the adult snowy egret (Egretta thula,) which is the same size and frequents the same habitats, so we look to the bill and eyes to see the difference, though this species also has yellow feet that the little blues lack – they’re under water so often for both species that this isn’t the easiest trait to use for differentiation. Here we can also see the breeding plumes, the shaggy longer feathers on head and back that the juvenile little blues don’t have, but this is a seasonal thing and not present at all times for the species.

We’ve also gone back to Merritt Island and my brother’s visit – this was shot on the same day as the first two. Merritt Island is a pretty damn good place to check out, really, though having my brother in tow is a bit harder to arrange…

Strays. Little orphans

Just a trio of images from recent days that didn’t fit into other posts – little to say about them.

green treefrog Dryophytes cinereus peering over trumpet flower Brugmansia leaf
This green treefrog (Dryophytes cinereus) has been living on the same trumpet flower (Brugmansia) for weeks now, which is rare, but I caught it as it was spying on me. Or counter-spying on me. Hey, this is my job hobby vocation calling pointless obsession!

juvenile green treefrog Dryophytes cinereus perched on glass and underlit by strong light showing internal anatomy
While my brother was here, he captured one of the tiny juvenile green treefrogs and ensconced it temporarily in a terrarium so he could get his own photos, his introduction to macro work without either a macro lens or flash rig. I got out a bright LED lamp for lighting through the glass, which the frog decided was the ideal place to perch, returning to the same spot even when moved elsewhere. The curious internal anatomy revealed by this begged for a few frames, but the only thing I can offer is, you’re likely seeing different densities of the skeletal structure. And dem eyes.

great egret Ardea alba with captured fish
Near as I can tell, this is the same great egret (Ardea alba) that stalked almost right up to me a few weeks earlier, but was being much more circumspect later on and never let us get very close. So this is a long telephoto shot of a successful capture with a decent-sized fish for the neighborhood pond.

[I’m purposefully not pointing out the skidmark – I’m sure you found it on your own anyway.]

That’s all for now. But there’s a lunar eclipse coming up – we’ll see how the weather holds.

Neuse stuff

wide angle shot of head of Neuse River
One of the exploring trips we took while my brother was here was the Falls of the Neuse area, where Falls Lake empties its excess into the head of the Neuse River, which then tries to pretend it really has no interest in the ocean by taking the most circuitous route possible, passing through Virginia and Wisconsin to get there. Okay, it’s not that bad, but seriously, I think it hits every possible compass bearing in its path “east,” multiple times, and extends about ten times longer than it could have if it didn’t rely on gravity.

We did not, however, follow it that far, or indeed more than a few hundred meters, because there’s enough of interest right at the head. I know; I’ve been visiting for 24 years now.

trio of Carolina anoles Anolis carolinensis on fencepost
I mentioned before that after the cold snap, the adult Carolina anoles (Anolis carolinensis) seemed to have greatly increased their activity, and this was more evidence of it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen three of them hanging around in close proximity, and there appeared to be no territoriality in evidence – this may be common at this time of year and I simply have never been someplace with enough anoles to see it. Or we may have thwarted another sinister cabal. Remember these faces.

Speaking of herons (were we?)…

great blue heron Ardea herodias in tree
… this guy flew up from some hidden spot to perch in a tree roughly forty meters off, and the foliage necessitated switching to manual focus. This is a tight crop just to show off.

My brother’s fond of collecting finds, just for the moment – I’d do it more often myself but it means not wielding the camera, which is usually my primary purpose in such locations. But here’s a little crayfish that he snagged right near the water’s surface.

unidentified crayfish species from Neuse river
I’m not even going to try and determine what particular species this is – there are 49 in the state. You’ll just have to cope – you’re an adult now.

And another find – I don’t think this one was part of the gang, given the distance and much smaller size, but who knows?

juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis on hand of author's brother
This one gave us both a run for the money, and I thought we lost it in the leaves at least twice, but eventually my brother snagged it, gently. That mottled appearance is the last vestiges of its molting stage, almost blue in the sunlight. Both were of course released right after I got a few frames.

On Tuesday I mentioned trying to pin down the exact location (as in, the very same rocks) that appeared in an old favorite image of mine, and this might indicate where it was:

Neuse River near previous shooting location
The taller, shadowed rock at extreme right might be the same one seen at upper left here – which could mean that I was standing on the rock that appears in the foreground of the earlier shot. I finally loaded a couple of key images in my phone so that I could compare them while on location, rather than going from memory. I suppose I could pull up my own website while out there, but my connection is often bad, and the interminable wait for things to load tends to annoy the piss out of me – I almost never open my phone’s web browser anymore, finding it healthier to just wait until I’m on a grownup computer.

Another heron. Well, maybe.

great blue heron Ardea herodias on rock in middle of Neuse River
This was definitely the same one as seen in the previous post, and possibly the same as seen above – that one flew off while we weren’t looking, and this location was a hundred meters further upstream. Whatever – it’s a nice pose, though it was late afternoon by this point and only patches had direct sunlight. Not the most productive trip I’ve taken down there, but it kept us occupied for a few hours.

Sorting finds n+3

Once again, after a long session of sorting photos from the past few weeks, I have a collection of images not previously featured, all trivial (because I feature the good ones back when I unload them.) Well, except for this one:

milkweed seeds in misty conditions
I’m not sure how I missed this one when I did the initial fall colors post, but here it is now. This is a tighter crop than the original, and not too shabby for failing to use the macro lens.

great egret Ardea alba from behindThis one’s silly, but I already said that. You’re seeing the full frame to the right as the egret looked straight away from me eliminating the previous profile, and that really was enough to discard it, but I examine all images for critical sharpness at full resolution and automatically clicked on this one to check it. At full res, it revealed a small detail that I thought should be shown, and it only appears here because I’ve already discarded the image. I also didn’t want to take up any more space than necessary (which means that I shouldn’t even be posting this, but there’s necessary and there’s necessary,) so the small, column-right position means I have a bunch of space to take up in column-left. It’s not an exact science because screen resolutions and browser widths are all different, so I can only go on my settings for that and others likely vary. Phones are an entirely different matter, but no one’s reading all this on their phone anyway. I had a lot of images to go through this time, because I hadn’t cleared the Sort folder before my brother visited and we checked out several places to explore while he was here, having more time than originally intended – long story, that I’ll only go into here if I still need to take up even more space, but I’m starting to think that I’ve filibustered enough. How’s our space looking? Good? Then we’ll proceed…

great egret Ardea alba from rear showing eyesOh, boy, here we go again…

This is full resolution, and I draw your attention to the sides of the head, where you can see the eyes from here, and yes, for many birds this is enough to give them peripheral vision right around behind them, a full 360° horizontally at least, and knowing the egrets and herons, almost vertically as well – the shape of the skull provides a ridge that helps shield their eyes from the sun above, so there’s probably a blind spot straight up. Meanwhile, think of the shape of a catfish, and ponder how a bird like this manages to swallow one whole, through that beak and down that neck. It’s crazy, right? I’d say it was a freaking clown-car gullet, but almost no one gets such references anymore, for which we can be thankful, so I’ll just use the concept of a TARDIS instead. Oh, not into science fiction? Should I say something about women’s purses, or does that make me sexist in some manner? Whatever – I wouldn’t dream of depriving someone of their pop-psy superiority…

Moving on…

female mallard Anas platyrhynchos almost hidden behind leaves during pan
I was tracking this mallard (Anas platyrhynchos) as it came in to land, and still snapped a frame as it flew behind some bushes. Despite the heavy lateral motion blur from the panning, the bird is defined enough to be recognizable under all that. Still, I was taking a chance that I knew was unlikely to come out.

great blue heron Ardea herodias semi-obscured behind foliage
I like this one because even I can take a second looking at the frame to determine what I was trying to capture – and then that eye pops out. Similar conditions to the previous pic only much slower, I was tracking the great blue heron (Ardea herodias) as it passed momentarily in sight through gaps in the foliage, trying to maintain focus on the bird as well as nailing my timing. Got one, not the other.

wildly defocused seeds against sky
This was too trippy to pass up. As I was trying to get some photos of the blackberry lily seeds against the sky, the camera, for reasons completely indeterminable, started wandering focus to absolutely nothing just as I tripped the shutter – weird because the frames on either side were just fine. Part of this effect comes from the aspherical nature of the 18-135, which kinda of doubles the image in certain narrow circumstances. But you can understand why I called this one, “FearAndLoathing.”

That’s all for now, until the next big sort reveals even more nonsense. I know you can’t wait.

I was there…

… when the aliens landed.

I was out pretty late the other night, after a day of rain and drizzle, and the humidity and temperature made it just this side of fog. I drove past a scene and thought, I really need to come back and capture this, and so on returning home, I snagged the camera bag and tripod and went back out again. It helped that this was about a kilometer from the house.

lot lights shining through trees and mist at night
It was the mist in the air that made it work, but the fall colors helped a little. The original had a distinct greenish cast to it, so this version has been tweaked more neutral.

Almost as soon as I’d set the tripod up, right after I’d gotten the exposure levels in the right range, it started raining again and appeared to be in earnest, so I had to pack it all up – literally, ninety seconds of shooting time. Ah well.

No, it’s only some wastefully bright parking-lot lights up there, dog only knows why they’d be needed – you can see that I hid another down low behind the trunk of the central tree. Given more time to prepare and an assistant, I could have had some fun with creepy silhouettes in there, especially since this was only hours after Halloween, but not this time around. Maybe later on.

Things may go a little quiet around here shortly, as I get up to my ass in a new project, but there remain many frames that wait to be posted, so I’ll try to stay on top of them. Just you wait.

Visibly different, part 44

ripples on neuse River
Back in 1998, I switched jobs, necessitating a move into Raleigh, which also necessitated finding new natural areas to explore and chase snakes within. In short order, I found the Falls of the Neuse area, where Falls Lake emptied into the beginning of the Neuse River, seen (in part) above. Many years later I recalled the discovery of this spot as occurring some weeks or months after making the move – except that this frame on negative film occurs on the same roll as images from the previous place that I’d lived. Even then, film didn’t sit in the camera for weeks or months at a time, especially since I was shooting with the then-new Canon Elan IIe rig – I blew through film pretty quickly. There are no dates involved except for the same roll straddling the move, which occurred in the summer of ’98, and that’s close enough. But so much for my memory of the events; I apparently researched likely spots and quickly visited this one, and would do so regularly for the entire time that I lived there, as well as returning soon after I moved back into the state in 2004. That’s a long story that I’m not going to bother with here.

It’s not a good shot even by my standards at the time – I was just noodling around as I explored, not even bothering with the tripod, which I recall as being some basic offering from Ritz Camera or somesuch – I bought my first real tripod, a Bogen, while living in Raleigh, and that one still does duty as my cut-down macro tripod now. All that said, we jump ahead to, oh, a bit over a week ago.

ripples on Neuse River, slower exposure
Since my brother wanted to do some nature exploring while he was here, we went down to the Falls of the Neuse area and poked around – more of those images will be coming along. On several past visits, I’d shot a few frames trying to determine exactly where a particular slide that I liked had been taken – I recalled the general area but have never matched up the distinctive rocks. But, this frame seems to match up to the upper half of the one above pretty closely, if you look at the shape of those rocks as defined by the ripples. The tree is gone of course, but that’s not surprising – it was dead already in 1998, and the spillway out of the lake, a few hundred meters from here, is occasionally opened wide to control the lake level; I’ve seen this river two meters deeper than this, so the trunk being swept away in 24 years is actually pretty likely. I tried overlaying the images and they’re not a perfect match, though shooting angle and focal length would both introduce shifts in relative position, so that’s not a deal-breaker, and the rest of the details are so damn close that I think I’ve found a match. Moreover, despite the variation in water levels that’s common, it would appear that it was almost identical between the two shots – within a few centimeters of depth.

Differences? Well, besides the tree, there’s only the time of day throwing different light (we were there in mid afternoon this past trip, and I likely was working in the morning for the first frame.) The time exposure showing smoother ripples is the biggest difference, which I would credit to a tripod for the latter if I’d used one – instead, I counted on the stabilized 18-135 lens and held as still as possible for the 1/6 second shutter speed. Focal length is clearly different: EXIF info on the later frame shows 42mm, equivalent to about 67mm for the film camera, while examining the foreground rocks and leaves for the upper frame indicates that I was shooting wide, because you can see the bottom of the frame is almost looking down, typical of wide-angle curvature. I had a 28-105mm lens then so this was likely taken at 28mm. The rock at top right is more exposed, but that’s just vegetation anyway. Other than that, this particular area doesn’t look too changed at all, and from being there, I can tell you that it really hasn’t – a few trees have fallen, probably more sprung up, but the pools and paths and so on are largely the same. I just found it cool that I shot almost the same frame, a quarter-century apart, without even intending to.

Obligatory colors

autumn colors on American sweetgum Liquidambar styraciflua
I’m not quite going to make a post for each day of October with this, though it comes close, plus I still have plenty of photos to unload, but I’ll set a record for the year of uploaded images. Makes up for September being so slow at least. So let’s take a look at the autumn colors captured so far, with the idea that I may still have some more soon.

Above, the American sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua) is one of the better native performers in the fall color department – most of the other colorful species that I’ve seen have been landscaped trees, not appearing in any natural settings. This was at the edge of Jordan Lake and not too far along in color advancement, but it’s when I had the chance to capture it.

The other morning it was foggy, and I ventured down to Mason Farm Biological Reserve because that’s the best place within an easy drive to use such conditions, but the fog was weak and mostly just looking overcast by the time I got down there. Nonetheless, I did a comparison shot of a previous fog subject while there.

persimmon tree, possibly American persimmon Diospyros virginiana in slightly foggy condition
In doing this, I discovered that this tree was actually a persimmon, having caught it retaining fruit while the leaves had all been shed – most likely an American persimmon (Diospyros virginiana) but I wasn’t close enough to confirm any details. I do know that the mammals in the area scarf down the fruit as soon as it drops, and even found what was likely coyote scat laden with persimmon seeds on the trail.

Strangely missing were the spiderwebs; normally such conditions reveal hundreds of webs everywhere, but they were quite sparse this time, and I can’t imagine why, but it greatly reduced my opportunities for mist shots. I settled for a bursting milkweed pod instead.

opening seed pod of milkweed Asclepias
There are a lot of varieties of milkweed and I couldn’t begin to pin this one down, so settle for genus Asclepias. Plus some unidentified ladder-like pods on a clinging vine. I only got a bare hint of the mist on this and other attempts just weren’t sharp, partially due to slow shutter speeds from the low light, partially due to leaving the damn macro lens sitting on my desk the night before – dumbass. But I’ll point out a little something while I’m here.

seed pod of milkweed Asclepias with minimal fall colors in backgroundThere was really only one tree showing decent color in the background, so I chose a shooting angle and position to enhance this in the frame as much as possible. Changing focal length can alter the rendition of background elements as well, so that gives two quick lessons: watch the background to see what can make things look better, and play around with the zoom to make the most of relative sizes and depth-of-field. For the record, the pic above was at 85mm while the one at right was at 22mm, both at f8.

I wandered closer to that very tree as well, probably the best display visible for that day and location – we’re still slightly before ‘peak’ colors, but that’s a misleading concept.

possible maple species showing varied fall colors
Trees tend to turn colors and shed their leaves on wildly varied schedules, so the goal is to catch as many species as possible close to their best colors, but what usually happens is, some are bright, some are not there yet, and some (like the persimmon) have already dropped all their leaves. I have yet to see a nice landscape with most of the trees looking ideal, and usually spend my time being selective about what you can see and what you can’t. None of these are blowing me away, but I’m hoping to improve this within the next week or so.

unidentified solitary white mushroom in forest
Not really any autumn color here, but I spotted the mushroom a bit off the path and wandered over to use it. Again, no macro lens, prompting the wider view instead because it was a nice stand of straight trunks for the background, with only one anarchist in there, which happens more than I’d prefer – groups of nice uniform trees are rare.

Coming back home, I got a few brighter examples, but these are almost always good at this time of year.

oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifolia in damp autumn conditions
Many years back I’d seen the autumn colors of the oak-leaf hydrangea (Hydrangea quercifolia) and knew we needed them in the yard, and we haven’t regretted it since – they do well in the open shade, possess giant leaves, hold their dead flowers for close to a year, produce great displays in the autumn, and the critters love them. Of course, they look even better when wet. Just so you know, that foreground leaf is the size of a dinner plate. And if you look close, you can see that the colors are affected by the amount of sunlight they get: the second-largest leaf is still greenish where it was shaded by those above, with an even brighter green patch on the smaller leaf above and to the left of it – this bears a decently sharp outline of the leaf edge above it.

oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifolia with dried flowers
Many of the Carolina anole pics from the past few months have shown these flowers, since the anoles love them as nighttime perches, or did until the first serious cold snap – I haven’t seen the juveniles since then, though the adults redoubled their appearances afterward, don’t ask me how this works. I think those flowers bloomed back in May.

However, a few days after these pics, I found two other common subjects, one on the very same plant.

tiny juvenile Copes grey treefrog Dryophytes chrysoscelis perched on oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifolia leaf
This is a Copes grey treefrog (now Dryophytes chrysoscelis,) and I was unable to get the millimeter scale in the shot, spooking the frog off while trying, but that leaf is not the size of a dinner plate – more like my palm, and the frog is only on the tip. It had been sitting complacently in the center of the leaf, as they usually do during the day, but in the interval between initial spotting and returning with the macro rig, it had started to rain and this apparently provoked some action from the frog – it was alert enough not to brook the shenanigans of setting a tiny slip of paper alongside. ‘A little bigger than your thumbnail’ is close enough, anyway.

The same response from the rain was witnessed from the next one, too:

tiny juvenile green treefrog Dryophytes cinereus perched on blackberry lily iris domestica leaf
This green treefrog (Dryophytes cinereus) wasn’t on the hydrangea, but the blackberry lilies (Iris domestica) immediately alongside, and was just as tiny as the grey – both likely hatched from the backyard pond only a few weeks ago. I fired off this frame for ‘safety’ before I reached in to move the intervening weed, and I’m glad I did, because the frog shifted position and tried to hide as my hand drew close.

But there are some token autumn colors, at least, with a couple of bonus frogs. We’ll see what more can be dredged up shortly.

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