How dramatically the seasons can change! The seasons do change in Florida, but more subtlety and are discerned better perhaps by local eyes than by tourists or part-time residents. What marks the arrival of Central Florida’s Fall?

The temperatures start to cool down a bit, high in the 70s, lows in the 50s this month, although October was above average this year.

The wet, tropical summer pattern is being replaced by our “dry season” which lasts until late Winter. (In honor of this change, residents can water lawns only once per week now, instead of twice per week.)

The ocean is getting colder and Northeast winds can make that morning or evening stroll on the beach seem a lot less inviting.
We still track hurricanes in October and November, but the peak of hurricane season is traditionally in the months of August and September. (As I write this, however, Hurricane Ida is “out there” and may produce some wet weather next week.)

Fall migration brings not only birds in their non-breeding plumage to Central Florida but also birders – ecotourists! The State’s Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission has established a program called the Great Florida Birding Trail, with 489 sites in Florida, 135 of which are in the Eastern section where I live. I hope to visit several of these over the next several months!

But what about Florida’s Fall Foliage? I have been noticing some changes. My lawn is browner as it slips into dormancy. Have a nice sleep, grass plants and summer weeds! See you next Spring!

Some grass finds itself harvested and rolled up in hay bales.

Fall blooming flowers add color to the landscape. For example, I see yellow flowers and red or yellow leaves on shrubs and trees where I did not see them before. A quick perusal of the Internet shows that many plants, both native and horticultural, add splashes of color to the Fall landscape here.

But the true measure of Fall anywhere may be the decreasing hours of sunlight each day. After all, changes in the amount and intensity of sunlight are what drive seasons in both hemispheres. This is compounded by the fact that daylight savings time ended here on November 1, and night falls much “earlier.”

No worries! Fall festivals abound, the night will soon be lit up by cheery December decorations, and I need to practice my night photography anyway.

Hope to get some fun shots at the Volusia County Fair this week– the animals, the fall produce, and, of course, the gaudy midway lights after dark.

Stay tuned. Lyn

Like many others, I enjoy birding and often point my camera in their direction.

In the summer, snow birds have flown north from Florida and have not yet returned. Birds are in their less colorful, non-breeding plumage, and humans wear as little as possible when ever they can get away with it. Nature and au naturel in all of its glorious diversity!

Since I am often on the beach, I have several photos of gulls, terns, willets, and snowy egrets.

Three of many, New Smyrna Beach

Part of a flock of terns, New Smyrna Beach

Willets taking it easy, New Smyrna Beach

The gulls, terns, and willets like to hang out in groups whereas the egrets are more solitary.

One curious snowy egret ventured so close to me that the resulting photo, taken in bright morning light, looks unreal, almost like it was cut and pasted onto the background. (It reminds me of those famous moon walk shots.) But I assure you this is a real photo, of a real bird, on real sand.

Egret at my feet! New Smyrna Beach

A visit to Ponce Inlet Jetty provided a shot of a larger white egret, aptly called the Great Egret. As it stalked the rocky pools for food, my daughter, visiting from Denver, remarked that its neck looked like a skinny rope, and just as flexible too.

Fishing, near Ponce Inlet Jetty, Ponce Inlet Park

Earlier that week, while waiting for my daughter’s flight in the Orlando International Airport cell phone parking lot, I was amused to see two Sandhill Cranes land in the adjacent disturbed field just feet away from cars and humans. Luckily, I had my little point and shoot camera with me to record them as they strutted around with studied indifference.

One of two cranes, near cell phone lot, Orlando Airport

Let’s finish up with a shot of a bird we all know… the rock dove, more commonly called the pigeon. This bird is loved and fed by many and has adjusted well to humans and their structures. But, sometimes when I see them perched on high, I envision their cliff dwelling ancestors.

I observed this pigeon and others roosting above the Flagler Avenue, New Smyrna Beach boardwalk. It was taking a rest, no doubt, from scavenging crumbs left by messy, human beach-goers. It seemed fat, sassy, and content.

Roost above the boardwalk, Flagler Ave, New Smyrna Beach

I was fortunate that it did not grace my head with pigeon poop as I took its picture, but was soon less pleased to see that the hood of my car had been liberally used for pigeon target practice!

Squab anyone? Lyn

Recently, a winter resident remarked to me that her home state is “much more photogenic” than Florida. She is accustomed to lots of topographic relief and stated (vehemently) that Florida’s relative flatness is “boring “when compared to “mountains or craggy seacoasts.”

The vast ocean and sandy beaches pounded by foamy surf are boring? Untamed, lush Florida swamps and woodlands are boring? Coffee-colored, sensuous rivers and tortuous estuaries teeming with life are boring? I protest!

But, remembering how homesick I feel when not in Florida, I took a deep breath and sought some common ground. Perhaps, I suggested, when the big picture provides little inspiration, we can look for beauty in objects that are macro-photogenic?

On my walks, I look for opportunities to take close-up pictures of flowers, lichen on a tree branch, insects, or patterns in coquina rock. Walking is the best speed for such a search.

Happily, we reached agreement that Nature reveals beauty at many scales and in many settings. We pledged to meet for a leisurely stroll this winter, to appreciate beauty in the little things, and to enjoy our time right here, right now, in Florida. Lyn