Of Snow and Ice and Light
EAGLE LAKE, CA
October 3, 2016 4:06 PM
I awoke to white. To a layer of snow and ice. It explains why I have the camp all to myself—everyone else is smarter than me. Or they are lousy photographers. Because when the weather is bad, the shooting is always so very good.
I climbed out of bed and dressed and stepped outside. It was cold, but not that cold, not enough to head back inside. The air was so still. What is it about mornings like this? The silence? The solitude? The beauty? I love them, I love the feel of them. She—the Divine, my Lover—lies so close, just below the surface, just below visual perception. It is mornings like this where the artist senses Her—sees Her. On mornings like this, the artist feels compelled to paint Her or write about Her or put Her to music. Or he lifts his camera in a futile attempt to capture Her beauty. … Read more…