Engines roar as planes await departure, soaring into vibrant sunsets. The sky transforms with colors, revealing a reflective world as night gradually takes over.
Bright was the sky as the engines awoke with a rumble of thunder, Rolling the tarmac in echoes of journeys yet destined for wonder. Cloudbanks assembled in towering billows of silver and shadow, Lifting their faces to heaven, where sunlight had painted them golden.
Far on the edge of the runway, the steel-winged vessels lay waiting, Southwest and Delta, their banners aloft in the warm evening fading. Emerald-liveried Aer Lingus, a voyager bound to the island, Glided in grace on the threshold of travel through luminous currents.
Wheels left the earth with a whisper, a moment of weightless suspension, Gravity yielding to flight as the city unrolled far beneath us. Golden horizons drew rivers of fire through infinite heavens, Burning the clouds into embers that drifted in luminous torrents.
Upward we soared, where the world lay in pools of cerulean mirror, Lakes interwoven like jewels, reflections of sunfire descending. Billows of vapor, like castles of foam on the rim of creation, Tumbled and rolled into canyons of mist in the twilight’s dominion.
Flame on the wings, where the heavens ignited in hues of vermilion, Rays from the sun, like a god’s final whisper, embracing the skyline. Shadows arose in their silence, dissolving the last glow of daytime, Stars in their vigil awakened as night claimed the realm of the heavens.
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Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
As I set foot on the Falls Overlook at Taughannock Falls State Park, I was greeted by a symphony of autumn colors in their full glory. The vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows of the trees framed the scene, setting the stage for a perfect fall day. I lingered, taking in the view of cars nestled among the foliage, their colors almost merging with the rich autumn hues surrounding them. The sign for the “Falls Overlook” hinted at the journey ahead.
The overlook offered a breathtaking view, a gentle reminder of nature’s power as Taughannock Falls cascaded far below, framed by rugged cliffs and vibrant trees. Through gaps in the golden leaves, I could catch glimpses of the waterfall, a delicate white ribbon against the slate-gray rock. The sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows and illuminating leaves like stained glass, painting the landscape in a thousand shades.
I began my ascent up the North Rim Trail, where the path twisted beneath a tunnel of golden branches. The trail was carpeted with leaves, crunching underfoot with each step. The air was crisp, filled with the earthy scent of decaying leaves and moist earth. Sunlight poured through gaps in the canopy, lighting up patches of ferns and casting long shadows on the rocky path. Here and there, the yellow and brown hues gave way to a burst of crimson, the leaves vivid and almost glowing in the sunlight.
The trail led me along the cliff’s edge, where the river carved its path below. Pausing on the footbridge to the south rim, a former railroad, I looked out over the gorge, admiring the mosaic of colors stretching as far as the eye could see. In the distance, the sound of the falls drifted up to me, a soft, continuous roar that lent the forest an almost mystical air. It was hard not to feel a sense of awe at the raw beauty of the scene.
Eventually, I made my way down the South Rim Trail. There were ample distractions from the glorious foliage. A lone mushroom, golden and nestled in a bed of moss, caught my eye—a small reminder of the forest’s quiet life. I bent down to examine it, marveling at its delicate cap and the way it seemed to glow against the lush green moss. The trees here were denser, casting cool shadows that contrasted with the sun-drenched north side. The leaves here were thicker underfoot, their earthy scent more pronounced, grounding me in the moment.
As I reached the lower section of the trail, I noticed an old stone staircase winding up through the trees to the north rim—a relic from another time, adding a touch of mystery to the path. Each step was worn smooth by countless feet, each one a reminder of the generations that had walked these trails before me. The stairs climbed through a cathedral of trees, each trunk tall and straight, as if standing guard over the trail.
On my way around I passed by a historical marker, a blue and yellow sign commemorating the camp site of Captain Jonathan Woodworth, a Revolutionary soldier who camped here in June 1788. It was a reminder that these trails, this land, had been cherished long before my steps fell upon it.
After reaching the base of the South Rim Trail, I looped back up the North Rim. The trail now felt familiar, yet the changing light gave it a new character. The sun was lower, casting a golden glow across the tops of the trees.
As I returned to my starting point, the sun cast a soft, warm light across the landscape, bathing the park in an ethereal glow. With one last look over the falls and the vivid tapestry of trees, I felt a sense of gratitude. Taughannock Falls State Park in autumn is an experience, one that leaves an indelible mark, reminding us of the beauty and timelessness of the natural world.
On the drive home I paused to admire a neighbor’s maple tree’s full autumn glory.
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Awake to the radiant grace of dawn, where golden light adorns the sky and the ocean reflects its splendor. Witness the serene dance of nature in a peaceful, inspiring January sunrise at Cocoa Beach.
Awake, my soul, to morning’s radiant grace, as dawn’s first light adorns the sky’s embrace. Behold the scene where heaven meets the sea, a tapestry of hues, divinely free.
The eastern sky ignites with golden fire, each ray a herald of the sun’s desire. In softest pinks and boldest crimsons cast, the night retreats, and day arrives at last.
The ocean, kissed by dawn’s ethereal light, reflects the splendor of the coming sight. Waves gently lap upon the sandy shore; their whispered secrets speak of days of yore.
The palm trees sway in rhythmic, gentle dance, their silhouettes in morning’s light enhance. A peaceful stillness wraps the world in awe, as nature’s beauty strikes the heart with awe.
The scattered clouds, with edges tinged in gold, Frame the horizon as the day unfolds. They drift like dreams upon the waking breeze, in harmony with rustling leaves of trees.
And as the sun ascends its royal throne, Its warmth and light through every vein is known. A new day born, with promise in its wake, invites the heart to rise and dreams to take.
Imagine, seagulls soar on wings of pure delight, their cries a chorus to the morning’s light. They glide and dive with effortless grace, their freedom echoes in this sacred space.
On distant sands, the footprints of the few mark early risers greeting morning’s hue. Their presence, fleeting, soon to be erased, by tides that sweep the shore in gentle haste.
Oh, glorious dawn, thy beauty so profound, Inspire the soul where peace and love abound. Let hearts be lifted by thy gentle hand, to cherish all that’s wondrous in this land.
For in this moment, all the world is still, the chaos of the night’s dark dreams to kill. A symphony of light and life begins, as morning’s joy through every fiber sings.
So let us honor this celestial show, where sky and sea in radiant colors glow. In silent reverence, we stand and gaze, at dawn’s first light, and marvel at its blaze.
Awake, my soul, and bask in morning’s gleam, embrace the beauty of this waking dream. For in the sunrise, hope and peace reside, a timeless gift the heavens do provide.
Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
An evening at Cayuga Lake Inlet, home to the Cornell University Crew, is depicted as a serene haven for reflection. The Collyer Boathouse, vital to the local lore, sits across the inlet holding a rich history of crew camaraderie and competition.
As the sun dipped lower, casting its farewell in hues of amber and soft gold, Pam and I stood beside the serene Cayuga Lake Inlet, gazing westward. The stillness of the evening was a quiet symphony, punctuated only by the gentle lapping of water against the shore. It was November 5th, and the world seemed to hold its breath in the golden hour, that perfect moment minutes before the sun would bid its final adieu for the day.
Above us, the sky was a canvas of nature’s delicate brushwork – the Cirrus fibratus. These high-altitude clouds, ethereal and wispy, stretched across the sky like strands of silken thread. The cirrus clouds, the feathery remnants of far-travelled storms, are the poets of the atmosphere, telling tales of weather yet to come. Their presence was both a testament to the day’s tranquility and a harbinger of change looming on the horizon.
Taken with the Apple IPhone 14 ProMax, raw format
Cloud Lore
Cirrus fibratus clouds, in their striated splendor, often signal the approach of a warm front and are associated with the shifts in weather patterns. As we stood there, the clouds seemed to be etching the sky with messages in a cryptic script, hints of the coming days. These clouds, so high in the sky, are formed from ice crystals, and their very existence speaks of the coldness of the upper atmosphere, as the days down here by the lake inlet lengthen towards the winter solstice.
The days of early November, with their crisp air and the promise of winter, bring a change in the light, a deepening of colors, and a certain clarity to the world. The skies seem grander, a vast dome of ever-changing artistry, and the Cirrus fibratus are our guides to the imminent transformation. They remind us that the earth is tilting away from the sun in our hemisphere, pulling us into the cooler seasons.
Eternal Change
These cirrus formations, while signaling the shifts in weather, also play with the light of the lengthening days. The sun’s rays, ever lower on the horizon, catch the ice crystals, creating a prism effect that can result in sundogs, those bright spots of light that occasionally grace the sky at solar dawn or dusk. They add a mystical quality to the already enchanted time of day.
As the twilight deepened, the Cirrus fibratus began to glow with the sun’s final touch, turning from white to shades of pink and fiery orange. This spectacle was a gentle reminder of the passage of time, the cycles of nature, and the endless dance between the earth and the sun. The clouds foretold of cooler weather, perhaps a sign that we should cherish these last vestiges of autumnal warmth.
As night began to embrace the sky, the clouds slowly faded from our sight, but the memory of their beauty and the secrets they carried lingered. They are not just ice and air; they are messengers, carrying the stories of the atmosphere from one part of the world to another, connecting us with the rhythms of the earth in their ceaseless journey.
Signs and Wonders
In the coming days, we would watch the sky, taking note of the cirrus and the subtle cues they offered. Would there be rain, a storm, or perhaps a clear day that belies the cold snap in the air? Only time would tell, but for now, we stood in silent appreciation of nature’s grace, feeling the profound connection to the world around us that only a sunset watched together can bring.
In the early morning hours of Sunday, September 10, 2017 as Hurricane Irma approached the Florida Keys, I cannot sleep, worried about family members north of Miami and in Daytona Beach. To pass the time, I returned to the golden hours of March 4, 2017 evening. On vacation, Pam and I walked Cocoa Beach starting from Lori Wilson Park, headed north.
The light was perfect when I decided to switch to Raw-Jpeg mode, feeling the extra space was worth it. I don’t know why I don’t shoot Raw 100% of the time, as always, in retrospect, I regret using jpeg only. The camera was the Sony Alpha 700 dslr with a DT 18-200mm f3.5-6.3 lens purchased 2008 after an expedition to the Superstition Wilderness.
After capturing a wedding photo shoot and surfers there was this set of two Kite Skaters going at least 20 miles an hour. The Sony Alpha was quick enough to capture some of the action in raw mode, I am not satisfied with the sharpness of the images as the lens was not fast enough.
We had never watched kite skaters before and were prepared to understand the vision from watching distant kite surfers out beyond the breakers. North winds are the best for any type of kiting on Cocoa Beach and, that day, the wind was northeast. These riders zipped by in less than a minute. The sport is low key, it does not exist on Wikipedia. Image that. These two are having a fantastic time and stayed upright, going on and on and on down the miles long beach.
Sailskater Dreamview with Cruise Ship
1990 KiteSkate pioneers on the USA east coast experimented with four-line controllable parafoil kites powering in-line skates for exciting rides on asphalt surfaces.
Her partner approaches
The name “Wheels of Doom” suggest the danger of going this fast over a hard, rough surface.
He makes it look easy
These Cocoa Beach riders are outfitted for speed and safety: pads, helmets.
He maneuvers kite overhead to slow down.
Barefeet?? Unprotected skin? They must know how to dress, though maybe not. He has never fallen?
Full speed ahead with the kite positioned forward.
The beach within the tide line is solid, the pebbles, broken shells and such unforgiving as asphalt.
With grandchildren in the Miami Area and a sister in Daytona Beach, Florida was on my mind this morning and memories of this beautiful experience on Cocoa Beach came to mind. After an eventful day touring the NASA launch control center, Pam and I took an evening walk during the golden hour, me with camera in hand.
Full in expectation of catching the passing scene with lots of shot I set to full size jpeg mode using a Sony Alpha 700 dslr with a DT 18-200mm f3.5-6.3 lens. The light was exceptional, so I did not expect much post production work.
My first impression was of the line of cruise ships heading south from Port Canaveral, the starboard side lit perfectly behind human denizens of the Cocoa Beach shore, in full enjoyment mode. A synergy of the images struck me. I took a few experimental shots then, as we progressed down the beach front this unusual tableau came into view.
Newlyweds on Cocoa Beach give rapt attention to a distant cruise ship, it looks like an elegant child’s toy.
The session proceeded smoothly and professionally, it was a pleasure to watch. I felt no compunction for capturing these private moments on a public beach, the transcendence of the images reflect well on all participants.
Bride and groom pose while photographer composes the shot, her assistant behind.
We pick up this walk through Ithaca from the December 23rd post, next to a waterfall and the “Theory Center,” starting with the spiffed up rear façade of the Cornell Health Building, renamed from Gannett Health after a right wing newspaper publishing magnate. The building fronts “Ho Plaza” thus carries an address with unfortunate allusions, named for a distinguished Cornell alumna who’s family name is Ho. I included this building in appreciation to Cornell University and students for being good neighbors during this COVID-19 pandemic, controlling the virus.
Today, I avoided the views of the popular Lib Hill to minimize personal contact. Instead, descending the hill on footpaths, found myself on Stewart Avenue and the eastern side of City Cemetery.
Enjoying the solitude and long shadows of our northern afteroon.
Traversed a gate of hemlock branches….
Admired random monuments. By the way, George Washington Schuyler, whose family anecdote I shared in a previous post, rests here under an impressive stone. Not this one.
More afternoon light, fallen leaves, hemlocks.
Copyright 2021 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
Walking the Lower Cascadilla Gorge Trail from the end of Court Street, downtown Ithaca, named for the Tompkins County Court is a favorite way for students to walk from the Cornell Campus.
I avoided the route today, the trail is narrow, much less than the 6 foot minimum distance. The footpath from Eddy Gate to College Avenue passes where the trail climbs up from the gorge. I did opt to catch the Upper Cascadilla Gorge trail, much wider. The trail passes two footbridges accessing the Engineering Quadrangle and the main Cornell Campus. Photographed here is the approach to the second, smaller, footbridge.
Late fall/winter afternoons the “Golden Hour” is hours long for this view of the footbridge and waterfall.
Waterfall views from the bridge. I left the tripod at home, so these exposures “freeze” water motion.
Look up from the other side for this view. Baptized 1985 as “The Theory Center,” 2007 saw the name changed to the more evocative, “Center for Advanced Computing.” It always filled with supercomputers. Socially, the culture of the place was retrograde from the beginning with “faculty only” lounges that kept out the lowly staff members. As if on cue, I came upon a group of the privileged, unmasked, strutting down the hill toward me, like vacuous moles.
Copyright 2021 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 