Back in October, I took a drive along Old Mine Road, an historic trail-turned-road that's been around since the 1600s. It features several abandoned homes and camps that were left behind when plans were made to dam the Delaware at Tocks Island. It was a beautiful autumn day, a perfect afternoon for a drive with a few stops to hike along the way. I only explored about half the road and can't wait to get back.
A few trees and shrubs still held onto autumn, as seen from my sister-in-law's porch in Pittsburgh.
My wife and I spent three hours raking leaves and filled up 10 bags' worth. Glad I had her, because it would've taken me about five hours on my own.
I often forget how pretty the trees along the Garden State Parkway can be in autumn. Luckily I found myself down that way this week and could see the turning leaves again.
On my third day of autumn road tripping, I explored the southern stretch of the Old Mine Road along the Delaware River for the first time. Looking for the remains of an old camp resort, I parked at the Farview trailhead on the east side of the road and walked an hour up the hill -- crossing the Appalachian Trail -- and back down. Only then did I finally figure out that the poorly written account I'd printed out from the internet was talking about the trails on the western side of the road -- which go no more than a few hundred feet before they reach the Delaware. And sure enough, there were concrete steps and sheds and other remnants of a long-gone riverside resort.
A branch fights against the force of the falls -- as minor as they are -- on the North Branch of the Raritan River on the Natirar estate in Somerset County, New Jersey.
I was hoping to spend one of my days off this week on another drive through northern New Jersey's rural highlands to take in the foliage, but the weather didn't cooperate. But I didn't want to miss the peak days of my favorite tree in the yard, so I opened the window next to it and shot from the dining room -- staying dry the whole time.
Resumed my annual autumn tradition of a trip to Sussex County, which usually involves High Point State Park. After last year's trip came too late to get the leaves at peak color (but it wasn't a total loss), I decided to consider several trips over two or three weeks rather than setting aside one day to try to pinpoint the peak.
Today was nearly perfect. The weather, that is. The foliage is still spotty, but the scenery still starred in and around the park. I had good light, pleasant breezes and plenty of autumn splendor to behold.
As far as this shot goes, I didn't intend to shoot at this angle, but to get the golden tree into the frame, I had to because I was at the edge of the trail with my foot as far as it could go before stepping onto the loose, gravelly, steep slope. I could've tried to descend a few feet to get under the tree more and bring it closer to the monument, but I was in sneakers (I'd left my hiking boots in the car, hoping the monument would be open for a climb to the top, but it wasn't -- weekends only after Labor Day) and didn't want to get a few feet and then slide down the hill in a gravel-slide. I think it turned out OK, though.
Just 100 days to go! On the first day of autumn -- and Bruce Springsteen's birthday -- I went up to Garret Mountain for a 3-mile run on the loop road and the path around Barbour Pond. As I drove in, I caught a glimpse of this tree just starting to sprout its colors for fall. After my run, I drove the one-way loop again to stop for this shot.
Taking a rented rowboat out for a spin in Central Park.
The title and music of this Howie Day song were in my head for this shot, taken at High Point State Park in Sussex County. It's a great driving song that goes best on a warm enough afternoon to have the windows down and the sunroof open. While the lyrics take a more serious tone, I tend to ignore that underlying meaning. It has to be late afternoon, when the light is low and tinted gold or orange. The location can vary -- in the rolling hills, along a beach road, across a flat and straight stretch of highway in the plains. And though I stopped the car and made my way to the shore of this lake, the cool October breeze and mid-autumn light still put this scene into "perfect time of day" territory.
Let your colors collide
The time is so right
I keep running behind
But I know your meaning
You love to fall
The perfect time of day
