Photo Walk

I went on a photo walk with some friends in September. It was nice to connect with others who are passionate about learning this art form we call photography. I hate feeling like I am creating in a vacuum, and I miss my friends from other stops along our journey who I have created with. It’s always special for me to find some one whose thoughts and conversation hover where mine do, always coming back to crafting, making, capturing. I will confess I have a hard time with small talk. To be honest, I am obsessed. I am unsure what is important other than images, texture, bits of light and overwhelming beauty. I geek out on Derwent pencils and L glass, but I don’t understand vampires. I am distracted to the point of outright staring at people who wear their personalities in their hair, tattoos, skirts, or boots, but I have no clue who was in “People” this month.

So anyway back to our photo walk. I am sure I talked way to much about aperture, composition and light, but I enjoyed myself thoroughly. We walked through green and succulents, along dirt paths, amidst birds and bees. Following bitty dancing steps, kneeling before sticky hands holding donuts we snapped and I was happy. Happy in a slightly different but no better way than I am with my boys.

Happy also to be amidst the trees and what a pleasant surprise it was to edit these photos and realize they are literally enveloped in green. I was sprouted and grew among the trees, they were indeed my first friends. (Come to think of it, maybe that is why I struggle to share similar interests with other human beings?) I would crawl up into bark covered laps, nestled in a crook of their arm and read for days. Blankets and picnics were spread beneath majestic maples, oaks, walnuts, their height and grandeur commanding reverence. There I felt safe, with them I knew I had a place. Dusky twilight walks showed forth fairy homes in every gnarled branch and overgrown bush, and I was smitten.

I grew up and moved on, following a man. Living amongst scraggly halfhearted pine trees in a military town where no one takes root I knew my heart could never be whole. I tried to enjoy mild winters and see God’s blessings but stifling summers would come and I would yearn for the green. Now amidst beauty unimaginable, nestled between hills, dazzled by color, rocked in the rhythm of the sea, I am ravished. Still though I walk the sand, plunge into the waves, stand awed by all I see, still I return to the trees. I trod a trail to dappled sunlight and slip into the quiet embrace of branches and leaves. Life growing up from this good earth, rooted in place, showering down a banner of leaves. My friends, the trees.

(I hope I wasn’t  too introspective or dear me – narcissistic, but there is a bit about me. Maybe if you feel at all the same  you  will be encouraged to know there are other strange souls out there.)