One photo, ok not one, one hundred photos.
And when does the shutter stop in autumn?
I bet, and can not blame those who wonder: how many times you can shoot that forest, or those leaves?
In the end, there’s only foliage.
Well, there is, but it’s not this one.
In this one November smells to me of pines and sugar glazzed apples from the boutiques at the border of the forest.
This year and this photo is guaaranteed, so why not shooting from every single angle?
That’s the beauty of photography: everything is allowed: no one counting.
Just admiring, filling my internal disk with stunning nuances,rustling of the woods.
I want all the reds, the greens and bronzed up displays to keep me warm in the black-white wintery months that are right around the corner.
Warmth from within. Loving this November. Like never before.