A perfect autumn day for a walk through the woods.

“I went on my silent path beneath a round silvery moon. And a pale moon looked up from the floor of the great blue cave that lay in the abysmal silence beneath. Gigantic forest trees were about me; through which, like a silver snake, twisted and twined the great river. The sleeping woods, in undefined massiveness; the water that flowed in its sleep; and, above all, the enchantress moon, which had cast them all, with her pale eye, into the charmed slumber, sank into my soul, and I felt as if I had died in a dream, and should never more awake. The stream bore my little boat with a gentle sweep round a bend of the river; and lo! on a broad lawn, which rose from the water's edge with a long green slope to a clear elevation from which the trees receded on all sides, stood a stately palace glimmering ghostly in the moonshine: it seemed to be built throughout of the whitest marble.”

— Phantastes, by George MacDonald

“The window was built with a low arch, and filled with lozenge-shaped panes. As soon as I looked out of the window, a gush of wonderment and longing flowed over my soul like the tide of a great sea. Fairy Land lay before me, and drew me towards it with an irresistible attraction. The trees bathed their great heads in the waves of the morning, while their roots were planted deep in gloom; save where on the borders the sunshine broke against their stems, or swept in long streams through their avenues, washing with brighter hue all the leaves over which it flowed; revealing the rich brown of the decayed leaves and fallen pine-cones, and the delicate greens of the long grasses and tiny forests of moss that covered the channel over which it passed in motionless rivers of light.”

— Phantastes, by George MacDonald

“I particularly noticed some tall lilies, which grew on both sides of the way, with large dazzlingly white flowers, set off by the universal green. It was now dark enough for me to see that every flower was shining with a light of its own. Indeed it was by this light that I saw them, an internal, peculiar light, proceeding from each, and not reflected from a common source of light as in the daytime. This light sufficed only for the plant itself, and was not strong enough to cast any but the faintest shadows around it, or to illuminate any of the neighbouring objects with other than the faintest tinge of its own individual hue.

“A little forest of wild hyacinths was alive with exquisite creatures, who stood nearly motionless, with drooping necks, holding each by the stem of her flower, and swaying gently with it, whenever a low breath of wind swung the crowded floral belfry.

“In darker nooks, by the mossy roots of the trees, or in little tufts of grass, each dwelling in a globe of its own green light, glowed the glowworms. I saw great strong-armed beetles, hurrying about with most unwieldy haste, looking apparently for glowworms; for the moment a beetle espied one, it pounced upon it, and bore it away, in spite of its feeble resistance.… It then took the glowworm and held its luminous tail to the dark earthly pellet; when lo, it shot up into the air like a sky-rocket. Just like a rocket too, it burst in the air, and fell in a shower of the most gorgeously coloured sparks of every variety of hue; golden and red, and purple and green, and blue and rosy fires crossed and inter-crossed each other, beneath the shadowy heads, and between the columnar stems of the forest trees.

“In other parts, the whole of the immediately surrounding foliage was illuminated by the interwoven dances in the air of splendidly coloured fire-flies, which sped hither and thither, turned, twisted, crossed, and recrossed, entwining every complexity of intervolved motion. Here and there, whole mighty trees glowed with an emitted phosphorescent light. You could trace the very course of the great roots in the earth by the faint light that came through; and every twig, and every vein on every leaf was a streak of pale fire.

“The moon was high enough to send a great many of her rays down between the trees, and these rays were unusually bright, and sight-giving.”

— Phantastes, by George MacDonald

“I fancied I saw a thin blue smoke rising amongst the stems of larger trees in front of me; and soon I came to an open spot of ground in which stood a little cottage, so built that the stems of four great trees formed its corners, while their branches met and intertwined over its roof, heaping a great cloud of leaves over it, up towards the heavens. The cottage, I now saw, was built of the stems of small trees set closely together.…

“I had just time to see, on the edge of the denser forest, a single large ash-tree, whose foliage showed bluish, amidst the truer green of the other trees around it. A shadow as of a large distorted hand passed slowly over the little blind, and then as slowly returned in the opposite direction.

“‘He dares not come nearer than he is now, for any of those four oaks, at the corners of our cottage, would tear him to pieces; they are our friends. But he stands there and makes awful faces at us sometimes, and stretches out his long arms and fingers, and tries to kill us with fright; for, indeed, that is his favourite way of doing. Pray, keep out of his way to-night.’”

— Phantastes, by George MacDonald

The coming year in perspective.

I decided to do a summer version of my Winter Leaves work.

This is the kind of place I like to walk in the fall and winter, with little secluded hollows and pools covered with fallen leaves and the warm autumn afternoon sun.

I had the idea and made a picture like this back in 2011 when I was fairly new to Vue software and 3D landscapes in general. Since I've gotten more experience I've been thinking for some time of redoing it. I love miniatures! Here's the earlier version.

I first had the idea for this on a family trip around Thanksgiving of 2016. I was watching the landscape go by and noticed how the smaller trees still had their leaves, and how the dead leaves were almost pink. It may not be as beautiful as spring flowers or autumn leaves or snow, but there are scenes worth looking at even in an apparently lifeless landscape. This hanging on of dead leaves through the winter is called “marcescence”, and it is especially common in young oak trees like these.

This is my digital artwork, not a photograph.