It seems that one of the prerequisites for gorgeous shooting locations in West Virginia is that they need to be located quite literally in the middle of nowhere. When you bring up Blackwater Falls State Park on Google maps, you can see tiny, one horse towns scattered around the woods nearby, but no large cities. As I was driving in from the Winchester area, I drove through several small towns on the way out there, but soon found myself driving past sprawling farms, creeks and rivers and mile after mile of uninterrupted forest. So I settled in, found some bluegrass on a local station, and just soaked it in.
Ah…October. That wonderful month when you throw the first log on the fire, watch a college football game, feel a chill in the air, notice the geese flying South, and rake the leaves in the yard, all of which are now changing.
Unless, of course, you happen to live in Southern California. It was 105 degrees outside yesterday and the only thing that I can see changing color right now is my lawn. (Hint: It’s not green.) Here in Orange County, we don’t really have “seasons.” We have what might generously be described as “blech.” Most of us aren’t quite sure what “rain” is as we have only had fleeting glimpses of it lately, and we haul out the big winter coats once the temperatures dip way down into the lower 60’s.
So…yes. I’ve been starving for seasons. And of all the seasons that we don’t get here in Southern California, I think I miss autumn the most. It was with this in mind that I set off for West Virginia two years ago in hopes of shooting the Grist Mill at Babcock State Park.