Dandelion Wine, Dark Pictures

I had just finished reading Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine before we closed out our night with a long walk through dark, hilly parts of the city that I scarcely knew existed.  The mood was extremely fitting with Bradbury's descriptions of night passages through blackened ravines.  Good book.  Good night.  Good friends.  Good memories.  

For you photo nerds - This was the first time I'd ever cranked the ISO up to 25600, f1.4, unsteadily handheld for 1/8th of a second, manual focus.  I.e. it was dark as hell.  

Saying "hello" to nature

I set aside a couple hours for roaming in the woods on Friday, walking through dry creek beds, around a sheep farm, out to a river, over fallen trees.  Watchful deer and manic squirrels were surrounded by a steady group of yellow orange leaves giving up their grips for the year.  I was sad that I ripped a pair of jeans on a bunch of thorns, but was thrilled that I didn't fall into a menacing patch of poison ivy.  It was great to be outside for a woodsy sunset in an Ohio fall.

Seriously, though, I frigging hate poison ivy.

Time to pack

It seems hard to believe that I haven't seen an Ohio fall in four years.  The last time I breathed northern autumn air was in 2006 as I rode out my last days in academia.  I make it back up there a couple times a year, but it's typically in the summer or winter months.  I never would have imagined that one day I'd be wistful over the colors and sounds and smells brought by the droppings of deciduous trees.

This week brings a trip up north.  Time will be short between work activity at The Ohio State University campus, the usual planned visits, and the inevitable unplanned adventures, but I plan on clearing some time to go crunching through the trees.

Now to figure out how to pack six days worth of clothes, a laptop, camera junk, etc. into one carry on bag...