Once again, our three-year-old grandson led the way. He loves Halloween, and while visiting him and his parents in Rochester, New York, we attended several trick-or-treat events in the greater Rochester area.
The one at the Tink Park in Henrietta, where this photo was taken, was a highlight. We had trouble keeping up with young Teddy, who was excited to see the trail of scores of candle-lit pumpkins that wound through the woods. Teddy wasn’t scared a bit.
As you can see, Teddy used his flashlight to beckon us onward. Based on his full Halloween bucket, Teddy hit several trick-or-treat stands before we walked the pumpkin gauntlet.
Little Teddy’s enthusiasm lit the way to Halloween before we had to return to Virginia.
With kudos to my three-year-old grandson, we spotted these cotton candy clouds hovering over Lake Ontario near Rochester, New York.
A local apple orchard held a trick-or-treat night. We arrived right before sunset and were surprised to see the sun finally break through at the end of a rainy, cloudy day.
The setting sun reflected cotton candy pink off the roiling atmospheric rain-makers as we entered the orchard. Thousands of Halloween revelers traipsed over the soggy grounds, collecting candy here and there among the rows of trees still laden with deliciousness.
An old barn stood down over the hill at the end of a recently harvested cornfield. The roof of this old barn peaked out from autumn’s warm palette that surrounded it. The lovely scene was near Friendsville, Maryland.
It’s been a dry, dull fall here in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. The usual brilliant fall colors of trees and shrubs were only tinged with color, then mostly withered to brown and have fallen to the ground. Only patches of colors have shown brightly instead of entire neighborhoods or mountainsides.
In our recent coming and goings north and back south through the Appalachian Mountains in Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania, much is the same. Dry fields and forest, and mere spots of color could be seen.
This farmstead south of Friendsville, Maryland, was the exception. Autumn’s warm hues of the deciduous tree leaves surrounded all the buildings, with a splash of green thrown in by the evergreen.
I was grateful the morning sunshine highlighted this lovely scene.
I enjoy the progression of a sunset as much as the finale itself. I usually try to arrive well ahead of time, but I occasionally slip up. Like last Saturday, which was a busy one for us, I had settled in to watch a college football game.
I glanced out the front window, which faces north, and noticed a pinkish tinge in the broken clouds to the north. I grabbed my cameras and headed for one of my favorite sunset spots, Silver Lake in the burg of Dayton, Virginia.
Photo by Bruce Stambaugh
A layer of clouds was slowly moving southeast, opening the western sky to the setting sun. The chances for a decent sunset seemed bright. The sun had already dropped below the rippling horizon of the Allegheny Mountains that mark the western boundary of Virginia and West Virginia.
Still, the sky was bright where the sun had disappeared. Areas north and south of that spot showed warmer colors. The shallow lake was its usual calm self, broken only by a few patches of lily pads, seaweed, and miscellaneous debris.
The reflections on the water doubled the beauty. At the south end is the old mill, which now houses a lovely quilt museum. Across the narrow country road stands an old white-washed farmstead, its barn duplicated on the quiet water.
The road turns west around an Old Order Mennonite family’s red brick home, and continues up the hill to another farm, where it bends due north across the ridge. The staggared trees along its edge provide a perspective of depth to each photo.
The road disappears over the hill and behind the old white farmhouse at the lake’s northwest corner. The house and outbuildings, all mirrored on the water, serve as icons in scores of photographs of the landmark lake.
Photo by Bruce Stambaugh 2025
As minutes pass, the tones of the sky grow deeper orange and red as they tint the underbellies of the clouds and brighten the water’s surface. The western sky turns golden with ruby crowns, all reflected on Silver Lake.
Every hilltop object, animate and inanimate, becomes a row of silhouettes against the blazing background. As if brushed by an artist, the clouds display an autumn color palette of browns, grays, and oranges with patches of reds and pinks, their twins staring back at them.
As if on cue, three mallards take flight, their calls seemingly celebrating the day’s glorious ending. Silver Lake never looked prettier.
Imagine yourself standing on a ridge on a beautiful, temperate fall day. Scattered soft clouds float eastward in a pale blue sky. A gentle east wind mellows the strong afternoon sunshine.
The grass is lush after some long-overdue rain. And a lone, giant red oak, its leaves just now turning to their rusty color, looms over the landscape like it has for a century or more. Battered by winds and lightning strikes, the rugged oak stands as a centennial for all who care to notice.
Miles away, the southern slope of Massanutten Mountain glides to the floor of Virginia’s magnificent Shenandoah Valley. Miles farther southeast, the southern section of Shenandoah National Park marks the horizon.
Fortunately for me, imagination became reality a few days ago. I enhaled the entirety of the precious landscape, not wanting to leave. Of course, I had to. Still, even as I view this photo, nature’s glory fills my soul.
You must stay alert while driving the winding, undulating secondary roads in Rockingham County, Virginia, situated at the geographic center of the Shenandoah Valley.
You wind around through forests, past agricultural fields, hilltop homes, abandoned buildings, in valleys with steep hillsides, and suddenly find yourself cruising along a straight stretch of roadway along a ridgeline. There’s always something to see.
On a recent outing with a friend, we emerged from a small valley onto a ridge with farm fields on either side that quickly sloped away from the road. I slowed when I spotted the orange of the pumpkins waiting to be harvested. Then I noticed the view.
The southern section of the town of Broadway peeked out above the treeline beyond the farmstead. In the distance, the Massenutten Mountain range stood steadfast against the cloud-studded cerulean sky.
That famous line, improvised by Humphrey Bogart for Ingrid Bergman in the movie classic “Casablanca,” seemed most appropriate for this shot.
My wife and I attended our granddaughter’s high school volleyball team’s game last night. However, this cute toddler paid little attention to the action on the court. Instead, she entertained herself as any babe would do, wiggling around from her father’s lap to his shoulder and back again.
When she grabbed her father’s sunglasses off his hat, he helped her put them on, and she loved it. She was so proud, she just had to show me. Consequently, I had to share my joy as well.
I spotted a female Monarch butterfly in the woods of a park near my home the other day. Actually, the Monarch saw me first, and flitted from a lower limb with dried leaves to this one higher up. It likely was resting up for the next day’s flight south.
Because of the darkness under the canopy of trees and the distance the butterfly was from me, I was amazed that the camera was able to focus on the subject I wanted. I had to lighten the photo slightly so that the beautiful butterfly stood out.
It must have been a good omen because I soon began to find several species of birds feeding on bugs high and low in the trees. All this took place in a well-maintained city park in Harrisonburg, Virginia.
After a wet spring and an unusually damp June and July, the last half of summer was arid here in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. Still, the final weeks of summer produced vibrant colors in all things nature.
From flowers to butterflies to birds to bugs to early-turning leaves, it was colors galore all around the valley. Farm fields, fall displays, and forests all contributed to the subtle transition from August’s dog days to September’s cooler evening temperatures.
Everywhere one turned, colors caught the eye. Landscapes, mountain views, produce stands, and backyard gardens all had their own versions of summer’s transition to autumn.
All the photos presented were taken between August 15 and September 22, 2025.
Roadkill Crossing 
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