Autumn is visibly here on the marsh. Temperatures have dipped a bit. Each day has a moody quality. Even the ones that are bright and sunny.
For me the wait had seemed interminable. If I had my way, Autumn would be a perpetual state. The often torturous heat of Summer wouldn't be a factor, and the intense biting cold of deep winter wouldn't either. Every day would be filled with the vibrant matte colors of dusky rust, mustard yellow, and brown. Cool breezes would play through branch and leaf, encircling my sweater clad body out for an introspective stroll. My favorite time of year for communing with nature. Sublime.
With the coming of Mabon (Autumnal Equinox), there have been a variety of changes. One has been the loud presence of the Cicadas. This photo of a carcass is my second shot of being able to photograph one of the cacauphonous bugs (the other time was a living bug). They can't be seen in the photo, but there was a line of ants busily at work feeding off of the strangely beautiful form. As Autumn has moved in to claim residence for the next several months, the chirping drone of the masses of cicadas has been fading away. I can no longer hear them calling out in unison while watching TV in my livingroom with the door closed. Many may find the sound annoying, but I found it soothing. Especially when I was out walking in the evening. I don't know how much longer the last of them will be hanging around, so this may be a tad premature...goodbye until next year, cicadas.
Another one of my favorite things (aside from Autumn) is the Moon. The giant mirror of the sky. I caught it as it moved through its monthly cycle, showing itself during the sunlit day. It was less than a week away from its big appearance in all of its full glory. When the sun hits it making it into a huge fresnel lighting my part of the world. It was really beautiful hanging over the marsh.
The many hued shades of Autumn can be seen across the expanse of marsh grass. The cool temperatures over there are welcome (it's always a bit cooler and breezier by the marsh no matter the time of year), but it won't be perfect weather to walk along the marsh line until the mosquitoes are officially out of the picture for this year. They are still quite annoying as they dive bomb looking for a space of open succulent flesh to feed on.
Since moving back to Georgia roughly five years ago, I have redeveloped a love of clouds. I lived in Los Angeles, California, where true clouds have to battle with a thick blanket of man made smog. I hadn't seen real clouds for years. Whenever I have commented on how beautiful the clouds are here to my father, he has chuckled...guess that sounds silly to some. I think if he were here, if he could see the clouds that I see, his response would be different. The sky here on the coast of the Atlantic is...well, it's exquisite. No better word I can think of. The form. The range of color. There is something so beautiful and hypnotic about the sky on the Georgia coast. Nothing to spoil it. No police helicopters. No sirens, or car horns. No loud neighbors. Sublime.
Walking by the marsh I could see several boats cutting through the blue water of the Bull River, their engines kicking out heady waves behind. As we head into cooler times, the sight of boats on the river will taper off.
One of the prominent features here is the bushy growths of Pampas grass. They are especially bushy right now. I haven't really paid much attention to their growing cycles, but I expect they will "bush out" here in the not too distant future and will get pruned back. Almost to the ground. The feathery plumes are quite pretty in their way. I keep thinking that I should grab a few to dry and keep inside...the possibility of hitchhiker bugs has kept me from doing it.
The air plant, Spanish Moss, that covers most of the trees is pretty much present year round. It adds so much energy to Savannah. I creates a sense of mystery that pervades every nook and cranny of this town. It's something I never tire of.
The Autumnal marsh is all around me, and it will continue to evolve into its full glory. I look forward to more walks as the season settles in. More walks along the marsh, and beyond. Tybee Island. The Laurel Grove Cemetery. Places I haven't explored yet.