Sometimes I forget I have a blog. Life takes over, and before I know it, weeks (sometimes, months) have gone by without an entry.
No matter how hectic things get, however, I never stop taking pictures. My camera never gets put away.
In the backyard of the home I grew up in, there is a massive apple tree. In spring, its blossoms are resplendent. In late summer, its apples cover the ground below it. Its gnarled branches have held my children while they galloped on an old tire horse, and shaded their play summer after summer.
Its age shows in its bark, but so does its strength.
My son found this rusted and weathered swing, abandoned in the woods behind my parents’ house.
Now, it hangs from the branch of an apple tree in our yard.
In winter, it has been abandoned by my children. The tree, too, has been abandoned by the warm sun of summer and the nurturing rain. It has nearly been abandoned by me and my camera (so many photos are taken here in the warmer months).
Soon, though, both swing and tree will be visited once again.
You would not think there would be beauty in a rotten apple.
I can see this enormous apple tree from my kitchen window, down the back slope in our yard. In spring, it is resplendent with blossoms; in summer its branches hang low and create a “camp” where my children play; in fall the leaves turn and the apples drop. Only this year, rather than drop, the apples are hanging on into winter.
They are bright ornaments on a bare tree, wearing little white caps when it snows.
The fog is thick during my afternoon walk. It mutes the world and softens details. Distracting backgrounds disappear.
Because of this, I was able to focus more closely on what I passed by.
The apples below this tree, scarlet and scattered, were so pretty that I just had to capture this image before I moved on.