Elderwomen Musings

Rather than trying to tune out winter, I am photographing it patiently this year, playing with the light and looking for the distilled and softly glowing essence of  the season – now and then, I encounter that essence in unlikely places.

In a sunny place under the trees, a spring is rising from several hundred feet underground, the pool liquid for only a moment or two before freezing in place. The bubbles, the glossy fingers of icicles and the bits of frayed wood suspended over them take on the elements of a painting, and what I see in the viewfinder leaves me wide-eyed and breathless.

As mundane as such natural compositions are at first glance, they hold all the world in their delicate shadings and curves, graceful acknowledgments of the suchness of all things.