In the Golden Hour

Last night, Boomer and I walked to the park for a little bit of exercise and fresh air. I was also scoping out the current state of affairs in regard to the fall colors, as Phoebe and I have another photo shoot scheduled for her daughter on Sunday.

Luckily, the odd weather that we have experienced this year has made for a slow start to the changing of the leaves, so there is still plenty of color to be had; the rowboat that I envisioned for the shoot, however, has proven more elusive. Mark my words: one day, I will find a rowboat that is perfect for this purpose.

Anyhoodle, with the color assessment accomplished, Booms and I were free to enjoy the beauty of a stroll through the park in autumn. 

As we were making our way around the park, to the pond that I most wish to use for the pictures, Boomer spotted the resident ducks and, for just a few minutes, he forgot that he hates the water. I honestly thought he was going to go swimming at one point, and that would not have ended well. For Boomer, I mean; the ducks would have been fine.

The pond the ducks were swimming on, and that I intend to use as the backdrop to several of the pictures I will be taking, is almost at the point that I want it to be for photos. If the weather holds (and, it is supposed to), the last of the trees surrounding the banks should be at their peak by Sunday. 

And now you can see why I need a rowboat. (Seriously, universe! Send a rowboat my way!). 

By the time we got home, Boomer was tired and thirsty and my feet, knees, and hip were throbbing (new orthotics for the win, not!), but we were both happy we went, and, if the spirit is willing and the flesh ain't weak; we're going to do it all again, tonight.

(She said, with the purest of intentions)