Autumn and winter compete as my favourite seasons of the year, both for photography and life in general. There are few things that make me happier than a snowstorm and snow scape (see my post about Marblehead in snow). That said, the colours of autumn are just stunning, be they orange, red, gold, or anything in between. This year in particular, I had two trips that reminded me of the spectacular nature of autumn on both sides of the Atlantic; and I am lucky enough to call both regions home – or very close to it.
As I have written about before, Pitlochry is a special place for us, and one to which we return regularly. Our first weekend away in November many years ago allowed us to catch the very end of the autumn colour, but this year we chose to take a day trip on my weekend at home, and we caught some gorgeous golds and yellows (despite the often overcast weather). My favourite point on the drive, which I have mentioned before, is just as you turn a corner on the A9, and on this trip we could see just the start of the colour.
In Pitlochry, we parked at the edge of town and meandered our way through the crowds (yes, even a small town in Perthshire has crowds), then down to Loch Faskally and the famous Pitlochry dam, where there is a fish ladder and excellent views in both directions. We crossed the dam and walked a short way around the loch, where we could look back on the trees still in sunshine.
The standard walking loop in Pitlochry goes across the dam and then down the far side of the river, past the Festival Theatre. This theatre reminds me very much of the North Shore Music Theatre which I visited frequently while growing up, for its eclectic shows and unique nature. I have never actually attended a show here, but some day soon…
Not far beyond the theatre, the street passes by some stone cottages on one side and an inn on the other, then walkers must pay close attention not to miss the narrow entrance to the turn-off across the pedestrian suspension bridge. From this bridge, the view looking back towards the dam and the river is fantastic.
Once across the bridge, walkers can continue up through the town or take a sharp left to follow the riverbank back towards the dam and its visitor centre. We chose this route as there were several families ahead of us moving at the pace of the accompanying toddlers, and we wished to go back up to the overlook of the loch, below. Side note, the visitor center is relatively new (opened less than 10 years ago), and offers a great café, small gift shop, and clean restrooms.
The sun on this day just would not cooperate and show off the yellows and oranges the way I wanted, but I think you can get a hint of what we saw.
After a quick lunch in Pitlochry, we headed back to the car to drive up to Killiecrankie, which is only a few miles north.
The walk here is famous for stunning colour, but apparently everyone else had heard that too – there was not a place to park, and so we drove a bit further north to Blair Atholl. Immediately upon crossing the bridge into the town, there is a small car park where we stopped and found a walk along the riverbank.
Finally, here the sun came out in honest and I was able to capture a bit more of what we saw in person, brightness that really isn’t as visible in the above, overcast pictures.
We thought very briefly about going all the way to House of Bruar, but decided it would likely be even busier than Pitlochry, so not appealing. The drive home boasted one more impressive view, looking up at Kinnoull Hill near Perth, from the A9. There was a hint of what once had been (or may be on a less dry autumn).
The rumour on TV was that this year had been so dry, that all of the famous New England colour would be muted. It may be that further north this was the case, but on my drive from Boston to Greenwich, CT and back again, I saw some of the most amazing colour I can remember in many years. Now, granted, this was only my second autumn visit to New England in 20 years, but I found myself in awe over the beauty and vivacity of the leaves. There was one colour, which I do not seem to have managed to capture, that was an almost fluorescent pink-orange that you would not be blamed for thinking could not appear in nature – I was desperate to capture this colour, but it seemed only to exist on the side of the highway, where I could not stop. Nonetheless, I managed a few lovely views and took some short breaks while driving to stretch out my back and enjoy the scenery.
My first stop was at a rest area heading south, about halfway between Sturbridge, Massachusetts and Hartford, Connecticut. I did not expect it, but the small information cabin included a back porch looking over the river below, lined by some stunning maples.
The next morning I found myself favoured by traffic and so 40 minutes early for an appointment, making it possible for me to take a short detour down a tree-lined road to a pond. The reflection of the trees on the calm water was stunning, and there was a small brook meandering past the road.
My final day in Connecticut was dominated by the long drive from New Canaan to Marblehead, through downtown Boston as going through Salem is not an option in October (as I was reminded frequently). This was looking to be around 4 hours, so I planned to stop twice along the way – my back was starting to show the wear and tear of a busy few weeks in the car.
My second and final stop was just outside Sturbridge, Massachusetts, where there was a short mile-long walk around a pond – the perfect opportunity to stretch legs/back, and take a walk in the woods. Sure enough, while once again I was stymied in finding many bright colours, I found the golden hues everywhere, and it was a beautiful afternoon.
The light shining through the yellow trees against white birch bark reminded me of a scene in House of Flying Daggers, a film known for its imagery perhaps more than its story.
I am forever grateful to myself for taking this interlude, as what should have been two more hours in the car turned into three as I hit the Friday afternoon traffic through Boston. That was a long drive.
I am forever grateful, though, for a job that allows me to experience this kind of journey at a time of year when I could not visit for so long. I hope that I may be back next year.
Finally, while this visit to Dunkeld did not take place this year, I have been wanting to post these pictures for some time and was looking for the right time. Several years ago, as I recovered from my second bout of Covid, the other half suggested a day trip as I was no longer testing positive and had been confined to the house for two weeks. Dunkeld is a beautiful village in Perthshire – one of many – even closer than Pitlochry, boasting a medieval cathedral and some lovely homes.
On the day in question, we arrived just after lunch and walked through the village to the cathedral, then down to the river where you can walk along the bank back towards the main bridge.
While it was later in the season, there was still a touch of yellow and gold, particularly in what I think are beech trees. As we approached the bridge, the sun was glinting off the river between the mostly-empty branches of the trees, and I took about 10 pictures of the leaves. These are the better ones.
The day was growing clearer, and so we climbed up to the bridge and across, to take in the view from both sides. In one direction is the village, spread along the riverbank and the hills.
In the other direction is the river and – just visible through the trees – the tower of the cathedral. Covid exhaustion meant that I was not really up for a long walk, and so we headed back towards the car via a coffee shop on the main street.
On the day we visited, there was a perfect Scottish mist hanging on the treetops, though the hints of red and orange are still visible between the green pines.
This is one of my favourite pictures of Dunkeld, and the grassy area you can just see on the left side is where the cathedral grounds meet the river.
There is nothing particularly thought-inducing about this post, but I wanted to share my appreciation for autumn in both of the places I have lived. New England colour is world-famous, and deservedly so, but Scotland – along with many other countries – produces its own autumnal glory. It may not be as dramatic, but it is beautiful.
I hope you enjoy.
The Wandering Medievalist 