Life is About Finding Memories

Where does the time go? I have left you hanging, but I'm back and set to show the rest of the photos from Natural Bridge.

This is the grand entrance, a broken bridge itself, that protects the incredible structure within. You can be just a few steps from the arch and have no idea it is there.

See the same pillar of rock on the right in the two photos. Right there, it's the cave that was one occupied by paleo-indians. I felt a hush fall as if I had entered a cathedral.

And there, that shelf of rock at the bottom of this photo is the roof of the cave you can see in the photo above.

 It feels like a window upon the canopy of the hardwood forest.

Other trees cling to life on the edge. This is the top of the arch.

Panning further left, this is the other side of the structure.

I spent a long time studying the layers of sandstone this time. What creatures use this furrows to live, traverse, and play? My mind takes me places

Elements like this tiny leg that hold the side of the cave up, will not last forever. I feel honored to have bore witness. 

One last thing, I don't know what this little rock building along the road is, but it makes a wonderful element for photography. If anyone knows what it is, please let me know.

This concludes this series on Natural Bridge in Wisconsin. I have stocked away crazy ideas for use in my next book.

 

 

The Last Dandelion of Summer

Many of you know that I am nearing the end of a year long photography challenge. Each week, a new, randomly drawn category is chosen. Only 3 weeks remain, and while I'm so very proud of myself for sticking with this, I'm ready for it to be over.

Often the category frustrates. Autumn is leaving. the show over, and the earth is sleepy. This week I drew yellow. Where was this category with the trees were alive with color. Well, I did say this was a challenge. I'll find something.

Yellow, fades to Golden, deepens to Orange, and dies as brown.

The parade of leaves is always too fast, but I have no control.

But then, this. A goldenrod maintains its vigil over the river. Ah, yellow. You can still be found.

With my prize, I head home, and there right beside the driveway, a dandelion, pests in American yards, but I recall a story from my childhood.

My brother's roommate his freshman year in college was from Nigeria. Unable to visit home on the brief breaks from school, he would visit our home in Wisconsin. On his first visit, he was amazed by the beautiful, bright yellow flowers dotting each and every yard. The lowly dandelion, pest to homeowners, in the eyes of young man out of Africa, is beautiful.
 

GoodReads Reviews are rolling in

Blue on the Horizon got another review on GoodReads today. Megan C. wrote a review that actually brought tears to my eyes. Because her in depth review contains spoilers, I will only share the end.

"Blue on the Horizon (Legends of the Aurora Book # 1) is an amazing read that will take its readers on an incredible adventure that was creative as well as inspired. The book will leave its readers of all ages wanting more.

Rebecca Ferrell Porter has done a brilliant job and giving her readers a peek into the world of trolls and showing that what some may consider a flaw others find beautiful. Porter has written a story that teaches her readers without them realizing it.

The characters are imaginative and resourceful. They are well rounded and full of life. The story illustrates to its readers that everyone “has their secrets” and are not perfect. Through the characters we learn to look past each other’s flaws and find their true beauty.

Blue on the Horizon (Legends of the Aurora Book # 1) is a great adventure from the beginning and starts the series off with a bang. You don’t want to miss reading this book."

When I started writing Blue, I was asked why, what are you trying to say? My answer: to pass back the knowledge that being called weird was the greatest compliment I ever received. Gaven learns that lesson and through her, the reader. Megan gets that, and I couldn't be happier. Thank you.

Natural Bridge, Revisited

There I was again, admiring the sign marking my latest obsession. The trail was calling as I started up the hill.

 
 

 

 
The forest was lovely, the ground layered with a brittle layer of rich nutrients.

Near the top of the hill, the trees part and expose an outcropping of weathered rock ...That's enough for today. I'll leave you at the entrance to the heart of the park.

 

The gala has begun

As promised, I have returned to Natural Bridge State Recreational Area. This past weekend was my only open window to make the journey and I was worried the colors would still be hiding, but the earth gave me a break. I turned off the highway and headed up into the Baraboo Bluffs. Within a mile the hills were dotted with autumnal glamor. It was exactly what I hoped for. I have to admit that I prefer an abundance of green in the mix. All the better to make the rich colors of the early-turners stand out all the more.

 

 

 

I love Autumn.

 

Keep coming back. I have more photos to share from this magical journey.

Eleven thousand, five hundred, seventeen

I started writing again today. It felt great to really get the creative juices flowing. I've got 11,517 words on digital paper. I had to stop. I had gotten to the end of my vision for the day. I'll escape into sleep and listen for the next chapters. I know what your thinking. She must be crazy. Well, I'm not, but I've discovered my fount of creativity flourishes in dreams and that magical moment where the mind floats between waking and sleeping.
 
Bottom line: It works for me. My characters are stretching their rhetorical legs and setting out on their journey. Wish me fitful nights and space to daydream. You won't be disappointed by what grows in that vast reservoir.

The birds of Autumn

I've written before about frog stampedes, but during my recent camping trip, I ended up in a feeding frenzy. This chickadee was bravely holding his ground as I snapped photos of him fattening up for the coming season of snow.

 

A few steps further and this shy warbler was more nervous, but after the same prize.

 

I love being the only one down a trail. You never know what you'll find is you are quiet and respectful of the locals.

 

Early Autumn in Southern Wisconsin

I’m in a pickle. I have a favorite camping hideaway. It’s not private property, and anyone can go, but few even realize this little treasure is there. It’s stunning that people who love the outdoors have never heard of my favorite little jewel, and they live less than 50 miles away. Do I tell you? Do I risk word getting out about my favorite place to camp? I don’t know. Some of you will recognize it through the photos I’m about to share, but for everyone else, I’m going to hold this secret close.  However, that doesn't mean I won't share some photos with you.