My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, coffee life, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, spirituality and asking deep questions.
Above all, it’s hard learning to live with vivid mental images of scenes I cared for and failed to photograph. It is the edgy existence within me of these unmade images that is the only assurance that the best photographs are yet to be made.
Sam Abell
dark blue pre-dawn sky
ms
fades to the light of a new day
a meadowlark sings
It was 32 degrees and clear skies when I left the condo this morning. I sometimes wish I could completely eliminate the hand of man in my landscape images but it’s almost impossible. However, I believe these towers added something to this image. A meadowlarks song then brightened my spirit, and added even more to this cold morning. Yes, the gift of a new day!
Had to laugh at myself, though, because I placed my coffee mug on roof of the car when I put my tripod away and then drove off. I went about a quarter of a mile before I remembered it. Still sitting there. Have a wonderful Friday! 😂
What honest bloggers receive in return for their blogging is what every creative person hungers for—companionship, friendship, kindness, generosity, and words of blessed encouragement.
David J. Rogers
The above quote is from this blog post by a writer named David J. Rogers. Not sure how I found this post but I resonate with him. My reasons are the same: companionship, friendship, kindness, generosity, and words of blessed encouragement. I’ll probably keep it up.
“I see that the life of this place is always emerging beyond expectation or prediction or typicality, that it is unique, given to the world minute by minute, only once, never to be repeated. And this is when I see that this life is a miracle, absolutely worth having, absolutely worth saving. We are alive within mystery, by miracle.”
Wendell Berry
I have favorite places I enjoy returning to for the quiet I experience and the photo opportunities they offer. This is one such place. For this image I pulled into the gate to a farmers field and shot from the bar-ditch. A meadowlark greeted me with their morning song as they also watched the predawn colors.