Balmoral Grist Mill, Balmoral Mills, Nova Scotia (© Magi Nams)
This morning I ran with Pepper, our moving presence in the forest startling a ruffed grouse into whirring flight and two white-tailed deer into graceful bounds. The puddles from the past week’s rain remained, although shrunken since yesterday, when I photographed reflections in one of the larger pools.
Drizzle yielded to sunshine during the morning, and the wind, which had opened the day as a rambunctious character batting at leaves, built into a southwest blast that tore laundry from our clothesline and shoved the smells of autumn in our faces. Vilis cleared trails on our land. Still buoyed by the beauties of autumn I enjoyed yesterday afternoon, I cleaned house. We both drank in huge breaths of that autumn air. Today’s photos present the historic Balmoral Grist Mill enwrapped by the beauties of autumn.
Balmoral Grist Mill, Balmoral Mills, Nova Scotia (© Magi Nams)
