Phall Pholiage Photos (With A Hat-Tip To Phydo.)

Pardon, if you will, my Ph imbalance; it’s just one of the many imbalances I’m dealing with these days.

This year’s foliage season seems to have peaked while Susan and I were fully engaged in moving in together, and thus went largely undocumented. It’s a time thing, you know?

Anyway, I snapped an occasional picture, and since it’s been such a while since I blogged, they’ve piled up to the extent that I might reasonably be judged to have “been there,” when in fact I’ve been speeding past this phase of my life on the way to somewhere else.

So here they are, unceremoniously dumped before tomorrow’s forecast of snow renders them irrelevant.

A calm stretch of the Deerfield river, with the Bridge of Flowers in the distance:

Ferns gone by in the high country of Monroe:

A farmscape in nearby Cheshire, where affluent suburbia crowds a traditionally agricultural valley:

A late-greening field in the high hills of the intentionally misnamed Florida, which has a growing season which makes the blink of an eye look like stop-action photography:

The same farm on a different day, from a different angle:

Hey, I got a million of ’em.  Guess I’ll have to come back soon to finish ( or at least further) this dump.

Later then,

Ralph