autumn turns to winter
The afternoon light was slanting across the river
and across stands of trees and brush. An enchanted grove.
The last bloom was on the Rabbit Brush.
We left and continued up 395, pulling over on the side of the road where the pastures of the Carson Valley begin. I used the car to steady my telephoto lens.
The sunlight filtered over the mountains.
The light has a different quality here, and it was these colors that inspired my Carson wrap.
The cows were grazing calmly in the warm sun,
and I looked over towards the local golf course, watching golden leaves shimmer as they fell.
Today, after the windstorm rolled in and out with a dust of snow, the morning light dawned cooler, and the temperature had dropped 40 degrees (F).
The landscape was transformed.
It's somehow more personal. Softer.
Snow melted on the faces of rocks, and hid in shadows.
The sage brush remained, unaffectedly proud of its desert heritage.
Rabbit tracks showed
where they had played in the powdery snow.
my yarn awaited.