It is Fall, and the foliage in southern New York is putting on a spectacular demonstration of the awe-inspiring beauty that still exists in the world. Running around with my camera in one hand and J by my side made it a weekend where every second paid double, or more, through the photos.

It seems to be the single word that describes the last few weeks. On Wednesday morning, I looked out over the Hudson River on my way to work and felt like nature was acting as a mirror.

Here’s to hoping that the fog lifts.

On Sunday, I took a walk through a nearby town with my wife and our dog. The main street is littered with dusty antique stores. You pass dozens of them in a matter of minutes and there is really nothing to help you distinguish between them.

Then I came upon this hat. I stopped and stared for about 10 seconds and snapped this photo. The hat was interesting because it was incongruously new looking and colorful. I guess it isn’t surprising that the feeling of “cruftiness” inside the stores spills out into their street displays. The sad part is that I have no clear memory of what the store sold. I wouldn’t know the name if it weren’t in the photograph.

Why not try being remarkable instead of merely interesting?

1. Hire a high school student to wear the hat and welcome people to the store, or just say hello to people on the street.
2. Have her give away free lemonade to passersby on hot days.
3. Have a box of dog treats and fresh cool water for all of the people who bring their dogs. Don’t just leave the bowl there on the sidewalk. Be seen refreshing the water, and personally deliver the treats.

With so many of those antiques stores coming and going, its a wonder that the owners don’t try something a little different.

While traveling in Boston, I happened to pass by South Station. On its own the building is imposing but somewhat unremarkable in the downtown cityscape. What interested me enough about this building was that is quite literally on the border with Boston’s Chinatown. Old culture and the new Boston colliding in the reflection.

I returned late last week from the Business of Software conference. The speaker list was a veritable who’s who of experts on the process(es) of creating and managing software/technology companies.

Seth Godin’s presentation touched on many of his classic themes (being remarkable, making ethical use of the permission that your customers give you to talk to them, get product and marketing to match the culture of your company and customers), but I was taken with the sense that it was a massive therapy session for the audience. Much like a good psycho therapist, Seth stood up there and gave the audience permission to forget all of the standard ways in which businesses have made a name for themselves.

Forget traditional marketing.

Forget making a mass market product.

Forget competing through parity.

Having recently taken on the responsibility of “managing” the business of Copilot for Fog Creek, I have found myself falling into the trap of trying to do things the way that other companies or my competitors are doing them. We even tried a traditional marketing campaign this summer. The campaign failed in the sense of spending more money that we got back, but it put me in the right frame of mind to hear what Seth, and others at BoS, had to say about growing a software business. More on adwords later, but for now, let it suffice for me to say that there is a right size for things that you plan to sell through search or content network adverts.

I was shocked at finding myself wanting, or perhaps even needing, permission from someone else to act on my conclusions based on years of experience and my own observations. But there I was, sitting on the proverbial couch with a few hundred other people and nodding my head as Seth said that I should act on those instincts and conclusions, and that my Mom probably did love me after all. It wasn’t the answer to my questions, but it was the invitation I was looking for to throw common wisdom in the trash and try something different, and preferably remarkable.

Constitution Marsh, originally uploaded by jasonrr.

The contrast between the strong lines of the man-made walkway and the natural lines of the surrounding valley have long made this one of my favorite shots of the region. The best part about this is that the photograph was taken with my point and shoot. Proof that photography is rarely about the equipment, and more frequently about being in the right place at the right time.

Green Fall, originally uploaded by jasonrr.

A walk through the trails at Breakneck in Cold Spring yielded this shot. I have to give props to my 18-200mm Nikon VR lens. The vibration reduction made taking the long exposure pretty trivial. A little bit of post-processing gave it some extra dimension.

Hiking those trails is always a pleasure. Anyone that travels to the area should make the effort to see them.

Lunch Time 2, originally uploaded by jasonrr.

Today, Jillian and I played hooky and headed up to the Dutchess County Fair. We had a blast walking around the livestock barns and watching the semi-pro jumpers competition. I snapped this shot as we were walking past a sow who was taking care of a bunch of another pig’s piglets. The simplicity of the scene and the entire day were both really refreshing.

DSC_2642, originally uploaded by jasonrr.

Another shot from my trip to the Mayan Riviera. This is part of a walled Mayan religious compound in the part of Mexico now called Tulum. This place was really amazing. The buildings standing for several thousand years have weathered the constant abuse of being directly on a stormy coastline.

A special building on the compound is designed with a window opening that lets the light through during sunrise on the summer solstice. This year, nearly 20,000 Mayans attended the spectacle. Now that would have been something to see.

DSC_2564, originally uploaded by jasonrr.

I recently returned from a trip to Playacar on the Mayan Riviera. I had forgotten the restfulness of listening to the ocean for several hours a day. This was the view from our cabana.