Autumn has settled in the Font Roja. From the sea of orange trees in my town in the Ribera Alta, I pass without respite to a world with a mosaic of ocher and yellow colors. In its shadiest and most humid corners, this deciduous forest composed of the gall oak or Valencian oak (Quercus faginea), the ash, the maple (Make opalus subsp. Granatense), the mostajo, the yew… is at its maximum splendor.
In the understory of this oak forest made up of species such as ivy, honeysuckle, blonde or durillo, a few weeks ago I set up a hiding place to photograph some forest species, looking for the magic that emerges in every corner of the forest in this autumn environment.
I leave this quiet and peaceful place late in the afternoon. It’s cold and the sky is gray. The wind blows, dragging dense clouds that let a fine rain fall in the forest. Winter is just around the corner.
In the distance, I see the roofs of that small town that brings back fond and nostalgic memories. After an intense and fruitful day in the forest, a good way to end the day is to walk through its silent, lonely streets, now wet with rain, until you reach the square where its church stands majestically with its bell tower full of history. It’s my last stop today, before I get home with my camera card loaded with autumn portraits.