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Hedgerows
One morning a few autumns ago my pilot friend Jim, bundled a bleary eyed photographer, into a small chilly single engine plane. It was misty cold morning towards the end of October. We took off, just as dawn broke and by the time we were 500 feet in the air I was no longer sleepy, I was enthralled. Below me was were thee farmlands and hills of Southern Ontario painted with the colors of fall and wrapped here and there in a mist filled with long shadows cast by the rising sun. The view was breathtaking, and I captured many photographs in the next hour and a half that are the best I have ever taken. Here in a small valley, in the Caledon Hills, the fog, illuminated by the low sun gave a modern cluster of building a mysterious look, as if we were looking down into an ancient landscape, from hundred of years in the past. We watched in awe as the sun broke the horizon painting the morning mist golden pouring its radiance over fields and through autumn’s painted trees gently waking the land still wrapped in the wisps of last nights dreams
One morning a few autumns ago my pilot friend Jim, bundled a bleary eyed photographer, into a small chilly single engine plane. It was misty cold morning towards the end of October. We took off, just as dawn broke and by the time we were 500 feet in the air I was no longer sleepy, I was enthralled. Below me was were the farmlands and hills of Southern Ontario painted with the colours of fall and wrapped here and there in a mist filled with long shadows cast by the rising sun. The view was breathtaking, and I captured many photographs in the next hour and a half that are the best I have ever taken. Here in a small valley, in the Caledon Hills, the fog, illuminated by the low sun gave a modern cluster of building a mysterious look, as if we were looking down into an ancient landscape, from hundred of years in the past. We watched in awe as the sun broke the horizon painting the morning mist golden pouring its radiance over fields and through autumn’s painted trees gently waking the land still wrapped in the wisps of last nights dreams
Hedgerows and Hay Bails AS we were on our way back to the airport we passed over farmers fields. Here you can see the bails of Hay that had been recently bundled.
Hedgerows
Hedgerows
Hedgerows
See photo in original gallery.
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