Seeing solstice


knot on aspen


Learning to see. Not just what I want to see. But what is there before me. Real and raw. And then find the beauty within, hidden as it may be at times.
Lessons learned looking through the lens.


melted snow on the deck mid day today

(this inspired by the work of Harold Reinisch on his blog Okanagan Okanogan.


Light. Such a fascinating subject to focus on. I’d like to learn to capture a person’s light. Few opportunities present themselves here and now. There will be time. In the meanwhile, I turn to the mountain. Even on these days of long nights, with falling snow and white washed sky.


cedar post barbed wire and snow


Learning to see. I’ve spent years here looking from afar. Now I find myself zooming in. Looking closer, deeper, slower. Does this have to do with age, patience or simply perspective?

The intimate point of view. Am I bringing you in there with me? Into the trees, a little lighter now than last year, sparser now with needles fallen from the dying spruce, and bare aspen trees tipped over and piled like match sticks in places. Seems like a new one across the trail each time we take our snowshoes through the trees. A nice place to sit and rest.

The camera – teaching me to slow down, maybe even stop, look closely, see the details. Breathe into an intimate gaze. I have seen the landscape. Know the view. Coming home from a snowshoe yesterday and my mountain, my muse, is spread out before me like a naked model, tempting, teasing, taunting. I lift my camera, held my breath and really look. I had taken the same picture before, I was sure. Probably more than once. Same snow, same light, same time of day on this very same day in December. I do not press the shutter and move on.


aspen branch


Learning to look close, close enough to touch, to feel, to smell and taste. To share that taste with you. Leave it sweet and bitter on your tongue.
It takes patience for me. Like being aware of my breath. A walking meditation.
Finding light on the darkest day. A metaphor for living.


horse hair on barbed wire with frost


12 thoughts on “Seeing solstice

  1. Funny you should mention zeroing in on the small things….and age. I do the same thing…..forty two pictures of tree bark….a worm suspended from a thread mid-trail, leaf filled frames of every size and shape. Could be post-50-dementia, but I’d rather think of it as being wise enough and content enough to enjoy the simple beauty of nature. But who knows…perhaps those gray hairs sprouting from my head are some kind of super conductor bent on attracting the most artistic shots…..

    • Older and wiser… and learning to let go of expectations sees to allow us to see the real thing before us. “I’ll show you mine…” Next post I’ll put up some interesting tree bark pix I took looking closely, very closely, at a hillside of trees recently killed by our pine beetle.

  2. “I lift my camera, held my breath and really look. I had taken the same picture before, I was sure. Probably more than once. Same snow, same light, same time of day on this very same day in December. I do not press the shutter and move on.”…I truly believe you could take the same picture a thousand times and still get a different view…so, what the heck!…Go for it!

    • Yes, a different view… and closer is part of it. Learning to see more. “One either progresses or retrogrades…” as the saying goes. I guess always need to see more, though more need not be somewhere else. (though of bit of that too!)

  3. I love your close up photos .Having already recieving my Cristmas gift a new camera .I am going to try close up pictures . Yours give me a new way of looking at things . Look for the small wonders .They give you a insight into the world around you that you never have noticed before .Your pictures are great keep up the good work .Also have a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS & A HAPPY NEW YEAR .

    • A very, merry Christmas to you and Fely, Don! And here’s to a wonderful year ahead. Great on the camera, and I’ll forward to seeing more pix from you up on facebook, or share them with me whenever you can.

  4. “A walking meditation” …. Perfect Gin …. This time last year I was doing just that while Snowshoing along a trail in Lake Louise Canada – taking time to stop and look and listen to silence and the soft fall of snow from branches. Unfortunately I didn’t have the camera that I do now to capture the detail and the mood of that magic morning. Today here though it is going to be another 34C day and snow is far far away. Thanks for bringing the winter memory back.

    • Thank you and I am glad to help stir such good memories. I’m quite amazed what a better camera will do. And it does somehow teach us to look closer when we are rewarded by beauty and able to capture the images our minds eyes sees. An interesting mixture of spirit, nature and science.

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