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

  • Autumn Fen

    A stunning morning on the Fen, a crisp frosty start and delicious golden light. The Konik ponies look so at home here, they were warming up in the sun at the edge of the wood. On in search of the Bearded Tits, but all was quiet in the reedbed. I can’t help feeling a bit…

  • 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…

  • Staying home

    I’m very fortunate to live near some lovely countryside, with two small nature reserves just a few minutes walk away from home. This weekend I decided to explore these instead of heading to the Fen. The closest reserve is an area of heathy common, with short rabbit grazed turf, and prickly gorse bushes. There’s a…

  • Japan – Part 3

    The final part of my Japanese wildlife blog focuses on the bird life of Kyoto Imperial Palace Park. Kyoto is so different compared to the neat, reserved, business city of Tokyo, it’s more vibrant, and full of temples with little green spaces tucked in everywhere. Down by the river, Grey Herons, Little Egrets and Great…

  • 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…

  • Orchids and Auroras

    My social media feeds have turned pink and green. As many others did, I left the comfort of my warm bed on Friday night and travelled a short distance to avoid the glow of Norwich on the horizon. As I stepped out of the car I could see a pale misty band across the Northern…