The Cusp of Autumn

Autumn is a great time for wildlife photography, the hard bright light of summer gives way to a softer, misty richness, like the Earth is sighing, relaxing toward the dark rest of winter.

I’m currently reading a fantastic book, ‘If Women Rose Rooted’ by Dr Sharon Blackie. When I say reading, I actually mean absorbing, consuming. One thing that really spoke to me in a recent chapter, was how our modern western world views time as linear, one moment then another, start to inevitable finish, growth and achievement the only goals. Compare this to ancient civilisations like the Celts, who viewed, and experienced time as circular, cyclical. Like the rising and setting of the sun, and the seasons rolling around without beginning or end. Life with a constant rhythm, a beating drum, a flow of energy.

At the mid point in my ’40 Species’ project, and near enough my life, I feel it. A kind of limbo between youth and elderhood, where curiously half of my work colleagues think of me as old and the other half as young. The late summer of my life, just as it is now. With it comes a mellow fruitfulness, more considered, more confident. The same energy, but with more focus and more experience.

So too for nature. Rich sweet blackberries adorn the hedgerows, tempting purple sloes drip from the branches. Golden butterflies like the Comma seem to glow in the hazy sun.

I visited Wales this month, and couldn’t resist the opportunity to photograph the stunning Red Kite. In Autumn they look even more gorgeous as the afternoon sun highlights their russet plumage.

At the Llanddeusant feeding station the kites gather for a free meal and show off their aerobatic skills, so agile in the air with long wings and forked tail, circling and twisting through the air and diving after each other. A truly spectacular sight to behold, especially when you consider that these birds were once on the brink of extinction here. It’s only through reintroductions and conservation efforts that these raptors are gracing our skies once again. These efforts have been so successful that the Red Kite is now a familiar sight, even in my part of the world over here in the East.

Stunning birds aren’t they!

Back home and I’m photographing fungi as we edge nearer to Samhain, laying on the woodland floor and breathing in that rich earthy scent. Trying to think in a more circular way, welcoming the next season and feeling safe in the knowledge that out of the dark comes the light, but only by knowing both, can we have balance.

You can subscribe to blog updates using the form below to be notified of new posts.

Subscribe

Sign up to receive blog notifications and exclusive content!

We don’t spam! Read our privacy policy for more info.

Similar Posts

  • Exhibition News

    I am very excited to announce that I will be exhibiting my work in Santiago’s Art Café in Botesdale, Suffolk. It’s actually my first exhibition in many, many years, so I’m really looking forward to it. There’s something about seeing photos printed that is so refreshing in our increasingly digital world, and that was one…

  • Fascinating Fritillaries

    Hello. I’m blogging again. Well, don’t expect regular updates, but I felt like writing again, and wanted to try and document some of my photo trips this year. I invited my lovely mum to join me for one of my first trips out with the camera, because I hoped this was a sight she would…

  • Hello 2024

    There’s nothing like a new year and upcoming milestone birthday to put you in a reflective mood. Photography has always been my passion, and by that I mean, puts me in the ‘satisfyingly busy’ freedom of flow state. When watching wildlife and creating images, time passes without a trace. Meditation with a camera. I always…

  • Love on the red cliff

    Late February. I’ve been visiting one of the very few seabird colonies in Norfolk. East Anglia is well known for it’s general flatness, so the sheer cliffs required to attract breeding sea birds are very rare. One place however, is Hunstanton, with it’s famous red and white cliffs. The red rocks are actually made of…

  • Jurassic gardens

    Don’t move. He can’t see us if we don’t move. The reptile tips his head. Patterned scales glint in the sun, golden eye, unblinking, watches us, time slows. But we’re not keeping still because we’re trying to avoid becoming a dinosaur’s dinner. We’re not moving so we don’t disturb the mini velociraptor in front of…

  • Autumn

    The golden season. Hedgerows heavy with fruits lead me to the earthy scented forest. Fungi, like this Fly Agaric push through the dark, damp soil. A Jay flies overhead with a beak full of acorns, and a Squirrel scampers up a tree to watch me walk by. Away from the forest into the open parkland…