
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024

© Bruce Stambaugh 2024

When I walked into the old farmhouse, the tour guide went right. My head, however, looked left, drawn by the stark contrast of the bright morning light shining into the dark kitchen of this century-old farmhouse.
Paula, our 78-year-old guide, worked in the home and on the farm as a child.

Our guide lived and worked in this home, starting at age four. We couldn’t have had a more authentic authority on how this former family coffee farm operated.
Today, Hawaii’s Kona Historical Society welcomes visitors via reservations to explore the Kona Coffee Living History Farm on Hawaii’s Big Island firsthand. Everything is as it was when Paula began helping around the house and on the farm.
I’ll share additional photos from the farm in a future post as I begin a series on a recent trip to Hawaii, our nation’s 50th state.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024

Fall is a great time to hike, bird, and shoot photos. Shenandoah National Park is my go-to place to combine all three hobbies in one trip.
However, I have learned to avoid the peak color time due to crowds. People from around the world visit the park to admire its autumn glory, which means traffic is also at its peak on the iconic Skyline Drive.
By mid-morning, lines of vehicles form at entrance stations. Overlook parking spaces fill up quickly, forcing people to park along the busy roadway. The same is true for trailhead parking lots.
Before the peak of leaf colors.
So, I chose to catch the leaf colors before and after the peak. The park is still busy, but it is tolerable, and I am satisfied with a stirring hike filled with picturesque views, unexpected wildlife, and migrating birds.
In the mountains, altitude affects the coloring as much as sunshine, cooler nighttime temperatures, and morning frosts. So, the trees might be dull or even bare at the hike’s beginning, and a half mile down the trail, a blaze of color brightens the way.










After the peak. Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
Though I have missed the height of the turning leaves, I enjoy the before-and-after with equal zeal. It’s fun to note the differences I discover and meet friendly folks along the way. The park’s beauty has energized them, too.
Besides, I admired nature’s colorful summit in other locales in Virginia’s lovely Shenandoah Valley. It is the perfect place to enjoy hiking, birding, and photography all in one joyous day trip.

© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
From my grandchildren and me, Happy Halloween!


The top photo of grandson Teddy, age 2.5, was taken this fall. The photo of the two ghosts and their sister pumpkin was taken on October 31, 2009. They are now 18, 15, and 20.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024

While leaf peeping recently, I spotted this intriguing scene. I decided not to tell the owner his barn door was open.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024

In the fall, traveling the rural roads in Rockingham County, Virginia, reveals Nature’s autumnal beauty. The trees along the highway’s edge bask in the sun’s more direct rays than if they grew more deeply in the forests.
Driving on Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park has the same effect. However, it is also much more crowded with global visitors in the fall. Traversing the local roadways usually means less traffic, which makes it safer to pull over, exit your vehicle, and snap away.

Doing so allows photographers to capture the fall’s breathtaking beauty. Occasionally, I encounter opportunities to spot some migrating birds and interact with local residents. Once I explained my purpose, I never had an issue. Of course, I choose my spots carefully.
The secondary roads of Rockingham County wind, climb, and descend through the rich agricultural lands that have been farmed for generations, sometimes by the same families and their descendants. I find that fact as rich and satisfying as the colorful leaves.
The joy of photographing the glorious fall colors is mainly in the sharing. I hope you enjoy this series of photos of birds, buildings, and leaves at their peak colors.






Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
I often find the brightest colors closer to home. The brilliant leaves show off houses, churches, cemeteries, and roadsides.

Of all the rural roads I traveled, this scene at the little hamlet of Spring Creek took the prize.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024

“Thinking is difficult. That’s why most people judge.” — Carl Jung
The morning sky was cerulean as I was on my way to deposit three bags of yard waste at the county landfill’s recycling center. When I turned onto Main St., traffic in both southbound lanes was stopped for some reason. I figured it might be a wreck at the next intersection.
Soon, vehicles in the right-hand lane began moving, so I merged into that lane. Then, I saw two Hispanic men walking from a fast-food restaurant to a dump truck five cars ahead. Had they really stopped their vehicle in the left lane to get something to eat? I zipped by the truck on the right and headed to my destination.
When I arrived at the landfill, I drove straight to where tree limbs, shrubs, leaves, and grass clippings were dumped, later to be ground into mulch. As I began unloading the three bags of sticks, leaves, and dead plants, the truck that blocked the road backed in beside me.
The two occupants quickly began to dump the truck’s load onto the huge pile. I kindly asked the driver what had happened where their vehicle had been stopped.
“You mean in front of McDonald’s?” the driver asked. I nodded in the affirmative.
“Oh, the transmission in the car beside us went out,” the man explained. “The lady was crying and didn’t know what to do, so we got out and pushed her car into the parking lot.”
I thanked them for their good deed of kindness and silently chastised myself for wrongly judging them. I was embarrassed by my egocentricity.
Why do we think so negatively when we don’t know all the facts? Why was I so self-centered simply because traffic was stalled? I wasn’t on a timed schedule.
Instead of being unnecessarily judgmental, why wasn’t I more curious about the situation? Jung’s relevant quote spoke to me. Jung was a Swiss psychologist and psychoanalyst in the 20th century.
I pondered all this on my way home. I thought more broadly about the current chaotic state our country is in. Is this the way bias and bigotry start, one little, insignificant episode at a time?
I didn’t consider myself biased toward others or a bigot—most people don’t—but this incident gave me pause. After a 30-year career in public education and a dozen more years in marketing, I always considered myself open-minded and fair toward others.
I wondered how many times in my lifetime I judged situations and other people without comprehending I was doing so. Probably a lot more than I care to recall. I suspect this septuagenarian is not alone in that regard.
So, how do we change our approach to life’s little hindrances? Professional contemplatives suggest starting with the breath: Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, they recommend.
I should have recognized this right away. Instead of long, deep breaths, I imagine my breathing was short and shallow, only adding to my unnecessary frustration and likely increasing my blood pressure.
From experience, I know that contemplative practices have many benefits. According to the Center for Contemplative Practices, they can improve health, mood, sleep, self-awareness, curiosity, and other personal gains.
Had I taken the time to remember and act upon these principles, my day would have started much differently. After all, how much effort does it take to pause, take a deep breath, and relax? The answer is not much.
However, I was bold enough to ask the men about the situation and received a straightforward answer that satisfied my inquisitiveness. Those good samaritans pulling in beside me at the landfill were a godsend. I imagine the women driver felt the same way.
So, the next time I tense up, I’ll try to remember to breathe in and out and not judge. How about you?
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
October has blessed us with some fantastic and surprising celestial wonders. The full Hunter Super Moon and the comet Tsuchinshan-ATLAS graced our night skies last week. The comet is still being seen but will soon vanish from sight.
Earlier in the month, the Aurora Borealis danced in the skies across the northern hemisphere, leading the stellar trifecta. Residents in the southernmost regions, like Arizona and Florida, even saw them.
I didn’t have to go far to view any of the trio of events in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley, where I live. The aurora’s colorful display reminded me of the animated light shows projected onto the American and Canadian Niagara Falls.
However, it’s hard to beat Nature’s heavenly choreography. All I had to do to see the Northern Lights was to step outside my front door. Pinks, reds, and greens played across the sky, dimming and dancing for all to see.

I had only once seen the northern lights as a young man living in Ohio’s Amish Country. The red curtain of zigzagging brilliance danced and sizzled strangely in the southern sky. Yes, I heard an associated zapping sound, but briefly.
I knew the forecasts for the Aurora Borealis were favorable, but I didn’t expect to see such vivid beauty this far south. It was a welcomed surprise that enabled many to cross off seeing the Northern Lights from their bucket list.
Next up was October’s Hunter Super Full Moon, the fourth consecutive super full moon this year. I like to catch the moon rising over the Blue Ridge Mountains, which also host Shenandoah National Park in central Virginia.


Because I wasn’t exactly sure where the moon would appear, I was able to snap a few shots just after it rose above the famed mountain range. The rural setting made the picture all the more captivating.
Then came the comet. Like the Northern Lights, the news media informed us of its arrival. The comet was expected to be its brightest on October 14. Unfortunately, fog, haze, and rain clouds obscured our skyward view.
Thursday, October 17, was our first clear night. My wife and I headed to a local landmark, Mole Hill. It’s an extinct volcanic core, long eroded and now covered with farmed fertile soils on its gradual slopes and a thick mixed forest on the steeper portion of the cone.
Mole Hill’s higher elevation didn’t help us find the comet. A hazy sky over the Allegheny Mountains, 30 miles to the west, was the culprit. We looked and looked but returned home disappointed. However, I wasn’t giving up since the comet wouldn’t reappear for 80,000 years.

The next night, I had success from the hill behind Eastern Mennonite University in Harrisonburg. After viewing photos from my iPhone 14 Pro taken around 7:30 p.m., I spotted a faint streak in the sky. What I couldn’t see with my old naked eyes, my smartphone easily captured for me. I was ecstatic.

I took a few more photos and returned home to celebrate with my wife by showing her the sequence of images. Afterward, we went outside, stood in our residential street with no street lights, and found the comet about 30 degrees northeast of Venus, which hugged the horizon.
The next night proved even more successful. I zoomed in with the phone’s long lens and captured more than the comet and its long, fuzzy tale. When I looked at the photo, I realized Starlink was streaking across the sky just northeast of the comet.

October has been good to us so far. I wonder what joyous tricks she’ll offer up by Halloween.

© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
I nearly drove by the two deer. They blended in with the background that well. Fortunately, I spotted them as I passed the old apple tree.
I found the first place to turn around and hoped my hungry subjects would still be there. They were, and I quickly snapped a few shots before they disappeared into the forest.

I was on Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park. The area between Milam Gap and Big Meadows is peppered with apple trees planted by farmers before the park was established in 1935. The trees still produce apples, and deer forage on them in the fall.
Unfortunately, this pair of bucks was late to the party. All the reachable apples and those on the ground had already been consumed.
Gravity and nature will eventually have their say, enabling the deer to satisfy their taste for bright red apples.

© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
My wife and I were busy last week. Everywhere we went, we saw color, literally and metaphorically. Color dominated, from flowers to birds to people to landscapes to food to sunsets.
Here are a few samples of the vivid, muted, and impressive hues we encountered as we traveled from Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley to the Piedmont of North Carolina and back.



Dan Nicholas Park wasn’t the only place we saw birds. We sat in the shade and chatted while various species of birds visited our hosts’ backyard feeders.



Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
Of course, I had to include a sunset from Cannon Park in Salisbury, North Carolina.
Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
The evening we arrived home in Harrisonburg, Virginia, the aurora borealis brightened the night sky. The following morning, we had the first frost of the season.


On Saturday, we hustled from one event to another. It was Homecoming at Eastern Mennonite University, where our daughter is the athletic director. The highlight for us was the dedication of the new state-of-the-art track. The ceremonies culminated with a ceremonial lap around the track by significant donors, former track members, and current track members. The oldest participant to run was in his 80s. He runs every day.



Please click on the photos to enlarge them.


Sugar Maple leaves are peaking.

The colorful week ended with a welcome home by late-blooming clematis.

© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
Wildlife Photos From The Chesapeake Bay Region
Culture and Communities at the Heart Of India
Artist and nature journalist in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia.
Photographer Of Life and moments
Personal Blog
Art is the only way to run away without leaving home. -Twyla Tharp
Writing generated from the rural life
writer. teacher. podcast cohost.
El amor cruza fronteras / Love crosses borders
You must be logged in to post a comment.