Sometimes when I am in need of new inspiration on an evening walk, I walk over to one of the several expanses of barbed wire fence along Piney Woods Church Road, and begin taking photographs. Often, I find that the sunlight illumines something on the fence in an intriguing way — perhaps a spiderweb, a leaf, or a clump of horsehair. These are two of my latest finds, both bits of horsehair backlit by golden light.
Lately I have spent many mornings and late afternoons photographing leaves illumined by sunlight. I have posted relatively few of them, by comparison. In this case, I find delight in the way the late-day sun has touched and transformed a single new leaf of a greenbrier. Beautiful.
Today is Day 193 of my Piney Woods Church Project. I announce this, not to prompt awe, but to set the stage for a confession. In 193 days, I had never noticed a large rock off on the side of the road, and how the late afternoon sun cast shadows of grass blades onto the stone. It was humbling to make this discovery, and to begin to appreciate all that I am still missing — all that still awaits to be explored and experienced. And this is only a single dirt road, less than half a mile in length. How could we ever claim to know the world, were we to have a billion lifetimes to live in it?
At the end of my evening walk, the sun was low in the sky, perhaps a half hour before sunset. Walking back toward Rico Rd., my attention was caught by a shriveled brown leaf lying on the grass. I got down onto the ground with my camera at ground level, and started to explore its possibilities as a screen for Balinese shadow play. (For those unfamiliar with Balinese shadow puppet theater, here is a great website on the topic.) The result is a tiny landscape of shadow, color and texture, created by the various shadows on the leaf, a grass blade standing just in front of it, and the textures and colors of the leaf itself. How many such miniature worlds of the imagination do we pass by every day?
The last of the three black steers of Piney Woods Church Road is gone now. The other two were taken away months back, leaving him alone in his roadside pasture. I could often hear him bellowing for companions as I walked up and down the road. He had to settle for human company, which I tried to provide on some of my walks. I miss him, even though I think he fancied me more for my sweat than for my occasional efforts at scratching his head and rubbing his ears. He would gallop (can a steer gallop?) over to where I would stand by the edge of the fence, if he saw me waiting there or if I called to him. Invariably, that long muscular tongue of his would emerge and reach out through the barbed wire fence in search of available salty flesh to lick. Still, apart from that proclivity (don’t we all have our peccadilloes?), he really was quite a charming steer. Now, in the golden hour on a Monday evening in July, his pasture is empty, and I am feeling a little empty, too.
An old spiderweb, its occupant long gone, glows in the sunlight of a late summer afternoon along Piney Woods Church Road.
Our yard on Rico Road has become a haven for White-Tailed Deer (Odocoileus virginianus). Going up the driveway around sunset, I sometimes find half a dozen deer about. This time of year, I will often glimpse one or two hanging out beneath our pear tree, undoubtedly waiting for the pears to ripen. Lately, I have seen spotted fawns in the front yard. For all that, though, I have rarely seen deer along Piney Woods Church Road. Tonight, at last, almost as an afterthought — I had already taken plenty of photos on my walk, plus spent half an hour chatting with a friend who lives along the road — I glimpsed a pair of deer in a roadside pasture. By the time my camera was at the ready, the closer of the two was already preparing to flee. Still, the result is a pleasant image — and, at long last, deer are included among the Piney Woods Church images. There are so few wild mammal photographs out of the 187 so far. I can think of only one other photograph, in fact — and Eastern Gray Squirrel. Insects tend to be slower and more willing to sit still.
On my way back to Rico Road along Piney Woods Church Road this afternoon, I paused to photograph a spiderweb glowing in the last afternoon sunlight, holding an orb weaving spider at its center. As I explored various angles for the image, I discovered that one particular angle produced a series of lightly-colored beams of light that angled across the image and illuminated the spider. These beams were not visible on by screen as I framed the photograph, but only afterward. The result is this shot of a “sunbathing spider”. Based upon its compact shape and fairly small size, it may be a Hentz orbweaver (Neoscona crucifera) although I am not certain enough of its coloration to do more than hazard a guess.
Along Piney Woods Church Road, a barbed wire fence holds back the surge of pasture grasses; across the line, the grass is meticulously maintained. I love the flow of light through the pasture in the early morning hours.
Here are a few photographs from the sunset earlier this evening. After so many days focused on the minute wonders lurking underfoot and all around me along the roadside, it was refreshing to spend a few minutes with my head in the clouds.
