Never, in peace or war, commit your virtue or your happiness to the future. Happy work is best done by the man who takes his long-term plans somewhat lightly and works from moment to moment… The present is the only time in which any duty can be done or any grace received.
Albert Camus
There are moments that simply happen through no conscious intention or will on anyone’s part. These are spiritual moments for me because they reach some deeper part of my being. They’re like a shutter speed of time, set aside, which nourishes my soul and adds to my life. This image was taken at that perfect moment when the light was illuminating the trees for only a few seconds. With the sun setting, the clouds moving rapidly, it truly was a matter of seconds. I was not aware of the shortness of time when I pressed the shutter. Only while looking at it on my screen at home did its impact hit me. This scene and image was a short moment in time and will never be repeated exactly like this again. It was one of a kind moment and one of a kind image and I stayed present for it. For that I’m grateful.
I’ve been in a funk for 4-5 days. Realized I have not taken a photo in 4 days nor been to any of the Natural Areas to greet the sun in weeks. So unlike me. To solve that I made my way to Reservoir Ridge Natural Area for some writing and just sitting there listening. A robin began singing to me and the wind was blowing through the elm and cottonwood trees. It’s healing music to my soul. As I’ve mentioned before the fall colors are splendid this year.
I have also talked to the nurse at the doctors office about the effects the blood pressure meds are having on me and the doctor is supposed to get back with me. I don’t like how I feel with this medication. I’m tired and lightheaded and even have some shortness of breath. My blood pressure numbers are good but we are expecting more than that.
It was a busy day yesterday. Started laundry about 7:00 am, made a quick trip to the grocery store then arrived at a coffee shop by 8:15 am. Had a zoom meeting at noon followed by a 2 1/2 hour lunch with my friend Duane. Finished off the day with a walk a Reservoir Ridge Natural Area for this image. I then curled up with a book and headed for bed.
You recognize your God as everyone’s God. And not only among Jews and Christians and Muslims do you see the reflected face of the One. When the climber reaches the summit and gazes out at a thousand miles of mountains and valleys, there is the One. When the mother pushes through shattering pain to give birth, and the infant sucks in his first breath and expels his wild wail, there is the One. When the father drops to his knees in the military cemetery after burying his son and wraps his arms around his own heaving chest, there is the One. In our first kiss, in our final embrace, there is the One.
The One shows up in Native lodges and Hindu temples, in the deep quiet of Zen meditation halls and in the ecstatic whirling of dervishes. The One whispers through the words of the poets, through the curving lines of painters, sculptors, and woodcarvers; through symphony and hip-hop, Gregorian chant, hymns in praise of Mother Mary, devotional songs to Lord Shiva; through tobacco and cornmeal offered at dawn to the Great Spirit. The One makes an appearance in the heart of the self-described atheist, who gasps in wonder at the beauty of an unexpected snow that fell during the night, carpeting the garden with jewels of frozen light. The One reveals itself as the compassionate Father and the protective Mother, as unrequited Lover and loyal Friend, residing always at the core of our own hearts, and utterly invisible. The One transcends all form, all description, all theory, categorically refusing to be defined or confined by our human impulse to unlock the Mystery. And the One resides at the center of all that is, ever-present and totally available. You remember, and forget, and remember again: beckoned with a thousand names, limited by none, the God you love is One.
Everything is His. the door, the door jamb. The wood stacked near the door. The leaves blown upon the path that leads to the door. The trees that are dropping their leaves the wind that is tripping them this way and that way, the clouds that are high above them, the stars that are sleeping now beyond the clouds
and, simply said, all the rest.
When I open the door I am so sure so sure all this will be there, and it is. I look around. I fill my arms with the firewood. I turn and enter His house, and close His door.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the scenes I cannot change, courage to change the scenes I can, and wisdom to know the difference.
I have been praying the Serenity Prayer every morning before my feet hit the floor for a few years now. The prayer is about three basic things: serenity (acceptance), courage (to change) and wisdom. I’ve become aware that I’ve been using this prayer in my photography without realizing it, but with a slight twist. I would suggest you may also. Let me explain using these two images.
I noticed this scene while driving along County Road 19. I knew from the get-go I was not going to have the image I wanted because of the close proximity of the house and tree. I wanted the sun setting behind the tree without the house but with the tree more towards the center. Wasn’t gonna happen in this scene. A couple extreme options were…
I could burn the house down but there would be court dates to deal with and I didn’t think the image would be worth the outta pocket expenses. Another option was to move the tree but I didn’t have a chainsaw for that task, nor the time. I don’t know about you but I seldom carry a chainsaw in my camera bag. Or I could….
… accept the scene as it is. So, I began by changing my expectations. The image I wanted when I first saw this scene I was not going to get. But, here is what I could do. I could work with my exposure, making sure it was what I wanted. I had my 70-300mm zoom on my camera because I had been photographing pronghorn antelope a few minutes earlier. So, I took a half dozen images, cropping at various focal lengths with and without the house in it. Again, I had little time to decide before the sun set.
I’ve been shooting long enough to know that I will not always come home with a keeper. I’m comfortable with that knowledge and therefore do not get as frustrated and lose my (serenity). I knew I could accept the scene as it is, aware I may trash all of them later (courage). Of course this is much easier today with digital than film days (more courage). I also knew that I was there to witness this gift of nature and store this scene in that place Mary Oliver calls the “kingdom we call remembrance.” I also know there would be other opportunities to come (wisdom).
After bringing the images home I found a couple that worked for me. The top image is without a crop and includes the house. It turned out better than I envisioned. I find it quite acceptable. The second image is the same image but with the house cropped out. Having the tree as far to the edge of the frame really did not take away from what I first saw. Shows you what I know. Both images are acceptable to me. If you are so inclined please let me know which image you like better. And, what experiences have you like this?
Just for fun, and because Tom stirred the pot, I went back and looked at other images I took to see if I include the whole house. I did and like them as well. I also did not realize how I must have moved along the road in my attempt to eliminate the house because this image has the sun on the opposite side of the tree.
“What if everything you have been taught is all a lie and everything you feel is all a truth?”
Nikki Rowe
There was a time in my youth when the things I was taught did not seem to fit with my feelings. That feeling came from somewhere within, a place I was not that familiar with, yet. Later I came to know it as intuition, a gut feeling, voice of my authentic self, the ground of my very being or whatever we choose to call it. I am now aware that when I was younger I was not taught the whole truth in school and church while expected to believe what I was taught. A controlling society does that whether it be a parent, a church, a government or an educational system.
I’m learning the importance of listening and trusting my intuition. There needs to be a connection between what I think, what I’m told to be truth and what my intuition tells me. With so much access to information it is vital for me to listen to the voice within. Connecting these together has given me much better results in knowing my truth, making decisions while not living to someone else’s truth.
