This year we were blessed with the most stunning autumn. Warm weather, brilliant colors—October was just the best! And while I was swamped with work and sometimes bemoaned the month passing me by, I was thankful to get out several times to relish God’s beautiful creation.
I can always count on my son to find the good nature spots. This fall he and I hiked Korth’s Park in Lake Mills, WI, and Cherokee Marsh in Madison.
He says it’s proven no one looks at botanical photography. How can you not? Milkweeds are very cool. So are those box elder bugs, as long as they stay out of my house.
Repitition is an art form, especially in nature. Check out the perfect alignment of this seedpod.
My husband and I took a circle tour of Lake Michigan, sort of, as we visited family in Michigan and Ohio. The first night we camped at J.W. Wells State Park in the Upper Peninsula. For rising early the next morning, we were rewarded with a peaceful sunrise all to ourselves.
Crossing the Mighty Mack—there’s beauty in manmade repetition as well.
In Ohio, we couldn’t have had a better day to visit the Pyramid Hill Sculpture Park and Museum. Located in Hamilton, just outside Cincinatti, this park is 265 acres of rolling hills accented by monumental sculptures.
Inside, in the museum, ancient sculptures are a nice contrast to the modernistic outdoor works.
Here we have a Sandstone Mummy Mask, dating from 1074-702 B.C. Isn’t he cute? I thought his smiling face would make a nice computer screen saver to start the day with each morning.
Southern Ohio and Indiana have different home architectural styles than we have in Wisconsin. I find them so fascinating.
Houses of this almost-row style were all along the main streets of Liberty, IN, (not a good picture, but apparently we couldn’t stop the car and get out for a better shot…ahem) The houses all looked very deep in length, although they weren’t connected or as close together as they are in large cities.
Anyone know what this style is and anything of its history?
And finally, as we headed northward on Indiana’s I-65, we drove past miles and miles of windmills. This shot says it all—transmission lines running parallel to windmills. And yes, there’s even beauty in this repetition, so says my husband, the electrical lineman.