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…
bloom.No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.
I suppose it was inevitable.
I found the first flower blooming in my yard, a variety that I’ve not seen before.
Graceful and delicate it opens up towards the glimmer of sun that has been struggling to break through the clouds.
Nature’s a fickle thing though and this morning the landscape sparkles with a layer of frost.
I secretly rejoice.
Happy Easter to those celebrating.
from the battle of the seasons.
You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.
The battle of the seasons continues here in the NorthWest part of the country. We’ve had a good volume of snow interlaced with copious amounts of rain.
Ice layers the less travelled roads turning my Jeep into a luge as I attempt to exit my property. It isn’t for the faint of heart and chains have become my closest ally.
I will not complain though because the opportunities for photographic images are everywhere and they are exactly the type of images that make my heart beat a little faster.
Those beautiful moments whose time is measured not in hours but in minutes.
A reminder to appreciate every moment that we’re given.
on a dew laden morning.
In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous.
A foot to the right and I might have stepped on him. I love the mornings when the landscape is covered in dew. It’s rather like looking for a needle in a haystack but I set out into the pasture to look for this shot and there he was, clinging to a blade of grass.
They are very vulnerable until their wings dry and every so often he would flutter them to shake off more dew.
It’s the tiny moments like this that I enjoy…truly something of the marvelous!