from a campground…
Seeing is not enough; you have to feel what you photograph.
I don’t often focus my lens on people but occasionally something draws me in and I’m compelled to capture that moment.
Street photography has always felt a little invasive to me. A little like capturing private moments publicly shared. I will often observe but won’t usually capture the image.
Campgrounds are full of these intimate moments and a long lens brings them closer yet.
This moment seemed to capture the essence of camping. Nature leaving its imprint on man…
but their presence is felt and their story remains.
we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life’s not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis
They came to the same place every year for 25 years.
When she passed away, he scattered her ashes there and this cross high in a tree keeps a vigil.
The story was told by someone who had been coming to that same place with his love for 20 years.
True, enduring love…
right time.He is richest who is content with the least, for content is the wealth of nature.
I had a special treat this week-end while visiting one of my favorite places, Schweitzer Mountain. The landscape was filled with bear-grass, a member of the lily family, in bloom, an occurrence that only happens every 5-7 years. Each plant only stays in bloom for a few days so photographing this is something that you need to take advantage of on the day that you see it.
As we walked amongst the blooms the air was filled with its faint fragrance and I felt that sense of satisfaction of being in the right place, at the right time, taking in the wealth of nature.
in all of its forms.
No water, no life. No blue, no green.
There’s something magical about dew soaked landscapes in the early hours of sunrise.
A single leaf becomes a canvas for nature to paint on.
For me it’s almost always about the water. Where it falls, how it sounds, the taste of it, the feel of it, the smell of the earth after a rain.
Drink it in.
the storm.A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease.
One of my favorite things about summer is the storms that roll through late in the day.
The sun slips towards the horizon amidst the backdrop of a fast flowing river and I think to myself…the calm before the storm.
The perfect time for long exposure tripod shots.
The heady scent of rain mixes with cloud to cloud lightning and the trees dance.
I shoot until the rain begins to soak through my clothes and only then do I seek shelter.
I dry off and think about the storms that the upcoming week will bring…
needs to know.
Color is the keyboard, the eyes are the harmonies, the soul is the piano with many strings. The artist is the hand that plays, touching one key or another, to cause vibrations in the soul.
How much do we really know and how much is completely beyond our control?
Does the image speak louder than the words do or can the words be believed over involuntary reflexes?
Are the eyes really the window to the soul?
I think they might be.
will soon begin.What’s old collapses, times change, and new life blossoms in the ruins.
This beautiful nest lies just outside my bedroom window nestled in a cedar tree.
It reminds me that no matter how complicated things become, life goes on as usual in the background.
Find joy in every day. Don’t wish the trying times away, they are just as important to feel as the good times.