After many cool and sunny days, we had a bit of rain yesterday, and the morning today brought out the glorious early fall colors of southern Indiana.
What better could I do on today’s evening than to sort through the pictures I took before sunrise at Spring Mill’s State Park?
There was dense fog over the lake, making things a bit spooky, but I decided to just show the trees.
If trees get along for half a century and longer growing together, why do we humans have such difficulties with it?
Have we stopped growing long ago, and become dry and gnarly?
Let’s enjoy each other and not spawn hatred.
Winter will be here soon enough.
On the other hand, there are some really spooky places in Spring Mills State Park, provided you come at the right time.
Next to Bronson cave, some fallen trees have assembled themselves in something that looks at an ancient rune.
In the fall and just before sun rise, the Spring Mills lake offers the best lake shore views in Indiana.
For whatever reason, there is always a healthy tree among the many dead.
Even without the fog, the scenery is awe inspiring.
For whatever reason, there is always a photogenic dead tree among the healthy. I wonder what ghost stories the settlers told here.
Every culture seems to have their own metaphorical approach to the mill.
I grew up in Germany. My early childhood was infused with fairy tails featuring increasingly spooky millers,
and of course with Wilhem Busch’s famous Max and Moritz, where the two brothers, after plenty of enjoyable mischief, end up ⎯ no, I won’t tell.
One of my favorite childhood books is Ottfried Preußler’s Krabat (translated as The Satanic Mill), that tells the story of a young boy becoming the apprentice of a miller, who, incidentally, also teaches sorcery. For a price. Check also out Karel Zeman’s animated movie with the same title.
And of course there is Schubert’s some cycle Die schöne Müllerin.
Other cultures have a very different take on mills, like the Spanish with Don Quixote by Cervantes.
Seeing a truly impressive historic water mill (from 1817) in Spring Mills State Park made me feel quite at home.
It is still in use and produces cornmeal.