I take pictures in our garden all the time. I did this even pre-COVID because I was in a personal lock down due to my health, which I now have new words for. Gee thanks Global Pandemic.
Every year my camera roll reminds me of where I am in the cycle of the yard, in case I forgot, but also because looking back is lovely. In spring everything is new and young and bright even when its dark. We know this, it happens every year and yet its still exciting and fills my camera roll every time. Summer deepens the colors and broadens the plants. Then there’s fall, which in the bay area is both short and a little weird. After 25 years of living here you’d think I’d be used to it, nope. Its not like the east coast.
Fall wanders in around about the middle of September and is, frankly, odd. It’s hot and dusty and then occasionally cool and dusted with moisture. I don’t say rain because that’s not till winter. (If all goes well, we might get sprinkles before “winter” but the real gray and damp green-scrapes wont come until the sky opens up and we begin to wonder why we were wishing for rain all summer and fall.) So September plods along and I forget that the most wonderful time is almost here. Its not forgetting so much as being distracted by life and dryness. But then! Its October 1st and not only can no one give us shit (at last) about our love of Halloween! But the angle of sun has shifted enough that everything gets long and limned with light and color. And its wonderful. I’ve taken almost as many pictures of spiderwebs in the last 14 days I did of roses all summer (not really but it feels that way).