The cold weather and snow have put a damper on my outdoor activities for the last six weeks. And I've had to hang around the house while we had our master bathroom renovated. So I haven't been outside photographing much since the last blog post.
While I've been stuck inside, I have been updating the Ocean City NJ Gallery on my website (check it out at the link). The gallery has images spanning twelve years and I thought I would use this month's post to share one of my favorite photos ever - the 59th Street Pier from OCNJ.
Over the years the pier has been a favorite subject of mine. I’d go to the old abandoned pier in different seasons and different weather - whenever we visited OCNJ - and it was always there, always the same. I'd get up early and spend a few hours there before our beach activities for the day. On the day I made the image above, the light was incredible. It started off very cloudy, but as the morning grew later, the clouds thinned, the sun started to peek out, and the water seemed to glow with the light.
It’s a good lesson in making time to observe and photograph special places that interest you, since things change over time and nothing lasts forever. The pier was built in 1913 and stood up to many challenges over its one hundred years. I made this photo almost ten years ago in 2011, only four years before the old pier was completely washed away when Hurricane Sandy came ashore. But while it no longer physically exists, I'll remember the many mornings I spent at the pier and it will exist in photographs and memories.
I was in southern NJ two weeks ago exploring some new areas of the Pinelands to photograph and looking for new places to kayak in the spring. I know it's only January, but you can never be too early to think about Spring. And look outside... it's still light at 5:30!!
After a long day of driving in cloudy lousy light (not the forecast!), I was heading home on a small road with only a vague idea of where I was. But I did see a large area of water on the GPS and I saw a small road on the map that went to the water's edge. I was already passed it and didn't feel like turning the Jeep around. A couple miles later there was another small dirt road that led to the water. This time I took it. It was not in great condition and the holes in the road made me drive at a painfully slow pace.
I emerged on the shore of the Delaware Bay looking west toward a faint glimmer of light on the horizon. There was an abandoned decaying dock in the water and I took a few photos even though the light was still terrible. But, I was excited because I knew this would be an area to return to in better light and so I saved the location coordinates in my app for that return trip. I went back out to the main road, drove a couple miles and decided to explore another road to the Bay. When I got to the water, I could see that small band of dim light on the horizon was getting larger and more orange. Damn... I need to get back to that old dock... and quick!!
The Jeep was bouncing all over as I went a bit too fast down the pothole filled road. But I made it. I got my camera and tripod and ran out onto the beach. I ran back and forth three times - each time forgetting an important piece of equipment! I finally had everything I needed, and proceeded to spend the next hour until almost dark taking photos under some pretty nice light!
This is one of my all time favorite trees! Is that weird... to have favorite trees? Doesn't everybody? Seriously, this is one of my favorite trees, and while I have photographed it several times, I don’t think I am done. I think there is more to see here under different light and different seasons. I like this tree most when there are no leaves... when you can see the complex and incredible lines made by the branches. And I especially like that there always seem to be just a few leaves that hang on and refuse to let go.
I made this image on the same snowy winter day as my last post. If you look closely, you can see it is snowing pretty heavily - obscuring the entire background and adding atmosphere to the overall image.
I don't have a great story to share for this one - I didn't lose my camera bag, I didn't forget my water bottle, the area wasn't closed due to hunting. This one is all about the image (it is a photography blog and website after all!).
Just a simple tree... in a field... in a snowstorm.
This isn't my typical landscape photo but I couldn't resist making this image. We had two winter storms the week before Christmas. All anyone could talk about was the second one, the big one! More than a foot of snow would be coming in that second storm and you would have thought we had never had a snowstorm before. The first one was completely overlooked... less than three inches coming, rain for most people, and it would be barely worth mentioning.
And sure enough it was raining where I live during the first one. But something made me leave the house and travel thirty miles north to where the snow was falling. I was glad I did! It was snowing wildly - big wet flakes, obscuring much of the landscape, and coating everything with a thin, white layer of snow. I ended up making several nice images from this storm that was "barely worth mentioning" and exactly none from the big one!
As the first storm was ending, I thought I was done for the day. I was driving some roads in the foothills where they blend into the first of the ridges that begin the southernmost mountain range in PA. And as I crested a small hill looking toward the mountain, I brought the jeep to a quick stop. There, in front of me, was a scene that looked like it was from the movie Fargo - or something like that. Quick moving mist from the clearing storm was riding along the mountain ridge. And this fascinating line of utility poles - each one different from the others and each one wet on one side from the storm - framed a red barn in the distance. It took a lot of very small movements of the tripod to get the barn in the right spot and every pole in the right spot.
I loved the peculiar feel of the image and thought to myself - this is really going to be great when I come back in the big snowstorm! I came back twice - once as the big storm was just beginning and once after it was done. And you see which image made the final cut - the one in the storm that was barely worth mentioning! :)
As I write this we are hours away from the first big snowstorm in a couple years in the Northeast. So I thought, what could be better than to sneak in one more image from my autumn photography travels. And I apologize... I can hear it now (and you know who you are)... "Not another Pinelands photograph!"... "Don't you go anywhere else?"... "Don't you live in PA?".
I can't help it. There is just so much to see and explore in The Pinelands and I have only scratched the surface in the three years I have come to know it. It is a United States Biosphere Reserve, it represents 22% of the land area of NJ, it's a unique combination of pine-oak forests and rare plants, and hardly anyone knows about it. And to me, what really makes the Pinelands special is the water... slow moving rivers, marshes, abandoned cranberry bogs, lakes and more.
And sometimes all that water combines with the weather to produce beautiful foggy mornings unlike anywhere else. As it did the morning I made this image. I was wandering around Whitesbog in fog so thick it was disorienting. It felt like I was on another planet - and completely alone. It was quiet as I walked along the abandoned cranberry bogs. And with every step, small islands in the bogs were first revealed, and then concealed again.
As I moved and observed and made some photographs, I began to think like a painter. I could create almost whatever I wanted to. My canvas was the thick foggy morning air that concealed everything beyond thirty feet. My paints were the muted reds, oranges and yellows of the autumn morning. And instead of using a brush to create color on that canvas, I used my legs. I walked back and forth to reveal just what I wanted to and nothing else. I knelt down on the ground to get different angles and I zoomed in to isolate the subject and create my "painting".
Thanks for indulging me in one more Pinelands photograph - I can't promise it’s the last!
I spent a lot of time in three of my favorite places in the first autumn of my retirement - The Pinelands, Hawk Mountain, and Ricketts Glen. I visited Ricketts Glen four times in October and early November! Some might say that is a bit excessive, but in my defense I only went there twice for photography days. The other trips were with family and with friends who hadn't ever been there. So in a way, I was doing a public service on two of the trips! :)
It was a colorful autumn in the mountains of PA, and Ricketts Glen was no exception. Each week showed dramatic changes in color, and with the repeated trips, I got to know which sections of the mountains changed colors first and which ones lagged behind. It's amazing what you observe and learn when you spend a lot of time in an area.
On the day I made the image above, it didn't start out so great. I was my usual excited self as I arrived at the trailhead and I loaded everything into the backpack and started hiking. I was fifteen minutes up the trail...easing into the day and calming down my excitement... when I realized I didn't quite pack everything - I left my water bottles in the Jeep. I hate going backwards, but I definitely needed water for the day.
After getting my water and slamming the Jeep door shut, I started off again. I hadn't gone far when I came to a section that looked really nice... but it wasn't a waterfall... and I was now behind schedule! Then I realized I don't have a schedule anymore! I could explore this one section all day long and come back again tomorrow if I wanted to. So I crossed the creek and spent time in this beautiful small area of color, with amazing old growth trees - some standing and some fallen. The size of the trees made it feel a bit prehistoric - like I was seeing a part of Ricketts Glen that existed many many years ago.
I took some photos, had a refreshing drink of water, and then slowly walked up the trail for the rest of the day.
When the sun peeked out from behind the clouds the red forest floor lit up like magic!
I was exploring some new areas in The Pinelands this autumn and I was driving on a sand road deep in a part of the forest that I had never been in before. The driving took a lot of attention to avoid doing any damage to the Jeep - some water, deep holes, fallen branches, and a narrow winding road all conspired to make me wonder if this was such a good idea. But turning around now would be admitting defeat and I couldn't do that!
I noticed the soft red autumn color of the wild blueberry bushes here and there. And then I came to a section of the forest where the entire floor was simply covered in them. And when the sun briefly came out, it lit them up from behind to create an incredible red glow, deep in the forest.
I started walking around to see if I could come up with a composition that would convey the feeling I had felt when I saw the forest floor light up. It's surprisingly difficult to make good images in the forest and most often they fall flat in terms of communicating what I felt. I found an isolated oak tree among the pine trunks and red forest floor and waited for the sun to come back out. It eventually did and I was rewarded with an image that really does show what I felt - the expansiveness of the red forest floor, the soft glow of red filtered light as far as I could see, the backlit gold leaves of the lone oak, and the mesmerizing patterns of the pine trunks.
It's been a great autumn for photography and so I have been sharing a couple extra images. Don't worry, there's no extra charge for the additional posts! :) And I'll probably drop back to once a month as the weather turns. Hope you are enjoying this extended autumn too!
For the first time in several years I was able to be outside hiking and photographing many days during the Autumn as the leaves changed colors. I was in the Pocono Mountains, Ricketts Glen several times, and a couple trips to the Pinelands of NJ. And the weather was incredible - sunny days, cool evenings, foggy mornings - what more could you ask for?!
I have several images that I really like that capture the colors of autumn - and you'll probably see one or two of them in another blog post soon! They are the more typical autumn photos - nicely composed scenes of the beauty of the land around us and the places I visit.
But the one above is the one I was most excited about. I know this image won’t be liked by everybody, but it represents the kind of photography I have in my mind when I am out photographing. I think of it as landscape inspired photographic art. It is clearly an autumn photo, but not an autumn "scene". You wouldn't know the location from the image and you don't care whether this is the Pinelands, Ricketts Glen, or or my backyard. It is an image of the "feeling" of autumn. At least it is to me! :)
So now you know what I have in mind when I am out there. I fail more often than I succeed - but the fun is in trying! You'll probably see more "typical scenes" on future blog posts - but hopefully some of these artistic images start coming though with more frequency.
On October 1, 2020 I left my house at 5am to get to Hawk Mountain before sunrise. I hiked in the dark to the North Lookout - guided by my headlamp and years of hiking this same path. Even with the autumn hawk migration in full swing, I got there before anyone else. That is exactly what I wanted - to be the only one on the North Lookout watching the sun rise on the first day of the next chapter of my life.
After 20 years at MicroStrategy, and 35 years of post college employment, with never more than two weeks off, I retired. I had been thinking about it for a couple years and decided that now was the right time. I had also given a lot of thought to what I would do on that first day - would I relax and sleep in? Nah!! I would do it all! After the sunrise hike at Hawk Mountain, I drove back home and did a 20 mile bike ride. And since there was half a day left, I loaded the kayak on the Jeep and spent 4 hours in the afternoon kayaking on the Batsto River in The Pinelands. After all that, I enjoyed a nice dinner with Marilyn. It was exactly how I envisioned the first day of the rest of my life!
So where is the classic, straight into the sun, starburst sunrise photo you might ask? I have it - and it's a decent image - but I'm not sure I really like it. It looks like every other sunrise photo and no matter how long I stared at it, it didn't seem to have much impact. What a disappointment!
And then I looked more closely at a set of three images I made right after the planned sunrise photo. One of these is shown at the top of this post. They show the valley below Hawk Mountain coming to life in the morning mist. It's humbling to realize this happens every morning, whether I am on the mountain watching it or not. And it will continue happening long after I am gone. I made these almost as an afterthought. And I really liked them - much better than what I had gone to the mountain to photograph. These "afterthought images" were much more impactful than the obvious image - the image I had planned to create. I think I'll keep that in mind as I enjoy my retirement - sometimes the unplanned moments might be better than the grand plans you draw up.
The Valley Awakens…
I've started combining my newest addiction of kayaking with my love of photography. Instead of just paddling for hours as a workout, I use the kayak to slowly explore new rivers and see things you couldn't see from the land. Sometimes it's just a new angle or viewpoint, but sometimes you are able to get to locations you simply could not get to by hiking or walking.
One Sunday morning I left home under beautiful sunny skies headed for the Pinelands to kayak. As I drove deeper into the Pinelands and closer to the coast, the sun gave way to clouds... then mist... then drizzle. As I pulled into the launch site, I briefly thought about turning around. But there was a group of ten girl scouts already there, excitedly and loudly climbing into their kayaks. And these weren't just any girl scouts - these were Pinelands Girl Scouts! I thought if they could do it, I could too! What really happened is they saw me pull in with my kayak on the Jeep - and turning around now would subject me to ridicule and taunting - so I toughed it out! :)
It turned out to be a great decision. The girl scouts stayed on the lake and I paddled into the river. The drizzle stopped, but the clouds remained. It gave the river a dark and mysterious mood. I paddled slowly for hours - sometimes just gliding on the slow current - enjoying the peace and quiet of the river. I took a lot of bad photographs - it's hard enough when everything is still, but imagine trying to compose and focus while the current is moving you.
But, I also took this one which seemed to capture the mood of the river - dark and mysterious yet somehow light and hopeful at the same time. Every day and every visit to the Pinelands is different - and rewarding.
For a couple years I have been thinking of buying my own kayak rather than renting them when I go on the water. So in late June I finally decided the time was right and I would get my own kayak. I did lots of research and decided on the perfect kayak for me.
And then I tried to buy one... during the pandemic... at a time when every person on the planet is buying a kayak or a bike! You guessed it - not a kayak available anywhere. I even considered driving to Rochester (5 hours each way!) to get one since the website said they had the one I wanted in stock - thank goodness the website was incorrect - they had nothing!
After many hours of searching, I found my third choice kayak at a store about 2 hours away! I told them to put it on hold and I would be there the next day! Of course they had kayaks, but no paddles, no life jackets, or anything else I needed! Amazon to the rescue and I had my complete setup just in time for several days off in early July.
I've been out on lakes and rivers nine times since I bought it (you know my obsessions!) and just absolutely love kayaking in the The Pinelands of NJ. The rivers are small, they twist and turn, and they flow through the most amazing feeling of wilderness - ninety minutes from my house.
I took the image above on Oswego Lake in the Pinelands. I know it's a cliche photo - it must be the first thing everyone takes a photo of when they are on a kayak! But I really like the color, simplicity, and "airiness" that seems to capture the beautiful blue sky, white cloud, low humidity, late summer day I had on the lake and river.
Nothing earth shattering - just a pleasant scene - as seen from a kayak!
There is an occasionally recurring theme in my blog posts and photo adventures... "Planning and excitement" followed by "something going wrong", leading to "anger and whining", followed by "grudging acceptance" and ending with "thankfulness that I remained flexible".
Whether it's deer hunting season closing the trails I intended to hike, or a lost camera bag causing me to go to my destination the next day under much better lighting, or early morning fog obscuring the fiery sunrise I planned to photograph. All of these have happened... and yet I ended up loving the resulting images I made even if they were not what I planned.
I'm sure there is a lesson here like... remain flexible, stop worrying, make the most of what you are given... but I'm a bit slow on the uptake of lessons like that! :)
The image above was not my planned early morning, incredibly colorful, sunrise in the Pinelands photo I had in mind. The photo that I planned was taken by someone else 10 miles away with better luck than me! Instead, I was walking around in fog so thick you could hardly see. Is this what I got up at 3:30am for? To be in the Pines by 5am in time for the "can't miss" sunrise photo? I knew I should have changed my plans and location when I drove from clear pre-dawn light into the fog bank!
Once I accepted what I was given, I started to truly see the nuanced color and light of the morning. And as the sun started to burn off the fog, it softly lit up the three trees while the background just started to emerge. This combination of soft golden light on the trees while the background was still in the cool blue tones of the fog lasted for about 5 minutes.
Once again I was in the right place at the right time - just like I planned it!! :)
“24 Hours of Light in The Pinelands”
Click on the link above to see six photographs I made in the Pinelands all in a single 24 hour period. I think they capture the essence and variety of this interesting place so remote, yet so near.
The days are getting shorter... but if the mornings start off like the image above I won't mind! It is the weekend of the Summer Solstice and while most normal people celebrate the solstice as the official start of summer, I always have a slight twinge of regret since it also means the days will start getting shorter. You know how much I love the outdoors and so I worry about things like this. ;)
Marilyn and the girls left for the beach Saturday morning so I was going to spend the entire weekend outside - hiking and photographing. I decided I would spend not just the day, but also the night, in the Pinelands of NJ. Why drive back and forth? Why not photograph Saturday evening's show of color, then "camp" overnight in my jeep on a sand road in the Pines, and be there for Sunday morning's colorful sunrise?
It was a bit of a stormy afternoon on Saturday and I did some storm chasing. I made some nice pictures of the sun lighting up the foreground with ominous clouds in the distance. After the storm passed over, I photographed reflections of delicate reeds and lily pads on water with alternating bands of pastel blue and warm yellow in the lowering sun. I was in position for the sunset with big sweeping clouds of color in the sky and reflecting on the water. And my dessert was wild blueberries washed clean by a summer rain.
The longest day also means it is the shortest night - perfect, since I was a bit nervous sleeping in the still night of the very (very) dark Pines. Nothing happened (which is good) - but I'd be lying if I said I had a great night's sleep. My setup was surprisingly more comfortable than I thought it would be - but I think I slept with one eye open all night!
The early wakeup call for sunrise brought disappointment - there would be no fiery sunrise reflecting off the water of Whitesbog this morning - everything was fogged in! But I didn't give up or go back to sleep. I decided to enjoy what I was given this morning. As the fog started to burn off, I noticed this scene glowing with the warm diffuse light of the sun and mist. And, as it turns out, I like this image more than all the other ones put together. This image, from a "disappointing" foggy morning. :)
I never thought taking a hike would be such a momentous occasion, but it was! With the pandemic lockdown starting to ease, I decided to get out for a full day of hiking and photography. And what better place to go than Ricketts Glen of course. You may be tired of this place, but I'm not - spending a day there alone, among the trees, rocks and waterfalls is rejuvenating.
I usually plan a trip around my work schedule and the weather - I aim for a cloudy day during the week. Weekends are too full of people and sunny days are tough conditions for photographing waterfalls. So on a recent cloudy Monday, I packed my gear (and my mask) and made the trek.
For the first three hours I had the park nearly to myself. I lost sense of time and place as I concentrated on compositions among the roar of the water. There were no thoughts of Covid19, no thoughts of vacations missed, no thoughts about work or health - it was cleansing just to exist in the moment with no other concerns. Even a modest creek and waterfall can seem like Niagara when you are right next to it and you let your mind clear.
As I moved back onto the trail, I noticed a change. Since many people are not working regular schedules and the kids are not in school, the trail started getting "crowded" - at least crowded by my definition - which means more than just me in the entire park! After a while it was time to leave and rejoin reality.
But for six wonderful hours, everything was just fine with the world! :)
With the Covid-19 lockdown, I thought I would have lots of time to work through old photos and dramatically update my website. Six weeks in and I have only managed to update and finalize a single gallery - Ricketts Glen! Maybe I need to stop watching Netflix and Amazon Prime - I love documentaries but I may have overdosed on them - and some were definitely questionable choices (Tiger King anyone?).
I chose Ricketts Glen as the starting point for working through my older image files that had not yet been edited. Since restarting my passion for photography in 2000, I have been to Ricketts Glen more than twenty-five times for full day photo hikes. I love everything about the place and I never grow tired of going there. So it was a natural place to start. I was certain I had already reviewed, selected and published the best images over the years. But several older ones caught my eye and made me stop. I published them to a work area to “live with them” for a few days to see if they still seemed worthy of publishing to my website - and they did! One of the images is from 2007 - thirteen years ago as I write this! Hopefully you enjoy these as much as I do! You can see the new additions from the archive here on the Ricketts Glen gallery page.
One of the images I rediscovered is the one at the top of this page. I made this image several years ago and as I reviewed it last week, it immediately grabbed me - perhaps because of the situation we now find ourselves in. We are forced to isolate ourselves from other people and it’s become clear that we don’t have the level of control over the world that we sometimes think we do. The small lone figure - the gesture - isolated against the vast backdrop of nature seemed to explain something of what we are experiencing today.
I hope everyone is doing well and I hope that soon this blog will show great landscape photos from far away places with no mention of viruses!
Now that Social Distancing is a phrase we are all too familiar with, I realize I have been practicing social distancing for many years! At least with my photography trips. When we went to the Canadian Rockies last year, we chose Jasper because all the guidebooks said everyone goes to Banff. When we schedule our photo and hiking trips, we travel on weekends and hike during the week - to avoid people. We hated Arches National Park because we went there on a Saturday and there were people there! And we absolutely loved Big Bend because we saw only four other people over the course of a five day photo trip! That was ten years ago and it is still memorable! I may have a problem. :)
After too many months, I have finally finished and posted my Canadian Rockies gallery. Take some time (I know you have it) and click on the link to see the images from that trip. It was one of the most amazing places I have ever visited - and I hope to go back again someday soon.
The image above was from a very calm and quiet sunrise on a lake near Jasper. There wasn’t a manmade sound at all - just the sounds of nature. And it was so calm - barely a ripple on the lake’s surface. It invited you to - no demanded that you - slow down and breathe deeply. I’ve been breathing deeply too often lately - just to check that I don’t have the virus! But when you breathe deeply, outside in nature, I find that you slow down, you calm down, your mind gets quiet, you relax… and you see and feel the healing power of nature and the land.
Go outside on the next nice day - stay close to home and stay away from other people - and look at a view you enjoy… and breathe deeply.
It’s Leap Day - February 29th - and as promised in my last blog post, here is a second bonus image for the month - at no extra cost! I thought we could all use a little distraction from the coronavirus, the plunging stock market, and the democratic primaries. :)
The image above is from a recent winter afternoon hike in The Pinelands. I came across this marshy area and was captivated by the gold and red grasses next to tangle of lichen covered trees. It’s another reminder that the colors of winter are there to be seen if you take enough time to look and notice them.
It’s been a great winter so far - unless you love snow. Signs of spring are all around - the first robins have been seen, there are buds on the trees, it’s light until after 6pm, the PGA Tour is in Florida, and the Flower Show opened in Philadelphia. Pretty soon these blog posts will be filled with the greens of Spring!
Happy Leap Day everyone!
Who can resist a great sunset?
While the sunset was the first thing that captured my attention in the above image, it was the rising then falling hill and tree line that really made me stop.
The bare branches created a beautiful design against the rapidly changing colorful sky. Even the shape of the cloud formation seemed to echo the shape of the hill and tree line.
At times like this, landscape photography can be more like fast paced action photography. I pulled the car off the side of the road and got the camera and tripod set up as quickly as I could. I was only able to get one image with the light at its peak.
It was only later that the title came to me and seemed to sum up what I was feeling and what made me stop and photograph this moment in time… the brilliant color and light of the sunset, and the hill and tree line both reached a crescendo and then quickly faded away.
It was a gray December afternoon, but the forecast called for clearing at the end of the day. The girls were home for a weekend visit for their annual cookie baking day. That meant it was my signal to get out of the way and wander around with my camera until the baking was done and all that was left were tins filled with warm cookies!
As you may have noticed, I am drawn to trees in the winter when there are no leaves on them. The shapes of the branches are fascinating - as if it’s some sort of natural etching against the landscape. I’ve come to realize, I love the rolling hills and open fields of this area of PA where I grew up, now a long time ago. Lines of solitary trees separating each farmer’s fields from the other.
As the forecast came true and the clouds started to give way to the sun, it lit up the fields and trees in a patchwork of light. I started driving back to some locations I saw earlier and came to the intersection of Fairview and Grandview - the honest truth. I chose Grandview.
I looked back into the setting sun, stopped the car, and realized I chose wisely!
It happened again! If you read my last blog post, my day of photography back then didn’t go as planned but I ended up being in the right place at the right time. This time everything was perfect - I was going to spend the morning at Hawk Mountain in the fog taking wonderful pictures. The cloud conditions were perfect. It was a Saturday and I had the time set aside. The road that leads to Hawk Mountain climbs in elevation. Within a mile of the top, I entered the fog bank and smiled because all the planning paid off! I started debating between black and white or color images and couldn’t wait to start. I pulled up to the trailhead entrance… and was greeted with a sign saying “Trails Closed for Safety During Deer Hunting”.
I sat there… stunned. I debated going in anyway, but came to my senses and made the intelligent decision not to (ok, the guard sitting in his car stopping people from trying had something to do with it!)
This time there was no whining, no anger, no cursing my bad luck. I turned around (thought again about going in, but the guard was still there!) and drove back down the road toward a small patch of winter color that caught my eye. I had seen it many times on the way to Hawk Mountain and always slowed down and even stopped once before. This time I parked the Jeep and started making some photographs.
Who said winters colors had to be shades of brown or grey? The rain and mist, along with the red colored branches, the berries, the lichen on the trees, and the winter grasses came together to produce color that you never seem to notice in winter. And the raindrops on the branches echo the red berries, lacking only their own color. I spent almost three hours just walking and photographing along a roadside in this small patch of winter color - and loved every minute of it!
I can’t wait to meticulously plan my next photo walk only to see what disappointment happens… followed by great discovery!