Since the leaves began falling I’ve been relishing my long walks in the woods.
I find them to be even more beautiful in winter’s starkness than I do when they’re cloaked in summer’s green finery. Scenes become stark line drawings as opposed to vivid impressionist paintings. Rain, fog, sunlight….each weather condition lends it’s own personality to familiar paths. In the summer it all tends to look the same. In winter each day reveals new facets.
It’s been unseasonably warm this December but on those days when the temperature has dropped a bit and the wind is blowing I can hear winter moving through the tops of these trees. I’m trying to be patient but I’m anxious to watch these spaces fill up with snow.
In the meantime, while I’m not here, looking and seeing and exploring, I trust that these eyes, which I found watching me just a few days ago, will keep their silent vigil.
I have to admit, I walked away thinking of Ents and Bilbo Baggins and fully expected this wise old man to thank me for stopping by for a visit.
Back in March of 2012 I responded to another photo challenge involving eyes with this post about a friend and the eyes she inherited from her mother.
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. So true in regards to so many things.
I visited Louisiana this past week and walked in the strip of woods that lies between the water of the Red River and the Clyde Fant Parkway in Shreveport. The last time I walked there it was spring and the woods were brilliantly green and vibrant compared to the place I experienced Saturday. These woods are in a holding pattern, dormant on the surface, waiting patiently for spring’s warmth. There’s a bit of green but nothing in comparison to the lush growth I photographed the last time I ventured there with camera in hand.
With this week’s challenge in mind I approached this path, looking for treasure and beauty within these winter woods.
I found it in abundance.
Treasure was in the beauty of stark winter trees, towers and bridges against a rich blue sky studded with clouds.
Treasure was in the soft, muted browns and silvers of a decaying world.
Treasure was in the unexpected pop of color.
And treasure was in the details.
It was even in a sign that made me smile when I came upon it. No alien swimming allowed?
I’m not sure why I decided photography was going to be my concentration when I was pursuing a Fine Arts Degree but I’m forever grateful for the dimension it has added to my life. It is my treasure because it allows me to see what most people walk by without seeing. As a result, I hope it’s been a treasure to others.