Sunday, August 30, 2020


When I go out walking in the swamp behind my library, down into the Mississippi River gorge, or, most often of all, out into the flower beds of my neighbors, I look for pictures. I take pictures of birds and squirrels and rabbits, bees, hostas, and flowers, and if I'm lucky a few of those turn out in a way I am pleased with. So I show them to you here.

But they're not the only lovely things I see. I see rivers and ponds where I go. I see fabulous clouds. And I see trees.

I just find all of those a lot harder to photograph in a good way. But I take the pictures of them anyway. I take them in a kind of hopeless way. I take them as a token of the great warmth I feel for them. And I tuck them away.

Lately I have been digging a little more deeply, bit by bit into the photo editing software I use. Mostly I have done it to extract wilder and wilder colors from my pictures. But I am restless too, and I like to experiment. Recently I pulled out some of the dusty and not so dusty pictures I have of trees, and I managed to get them not all the way, but partway to the terrible affection I sometimes feel for them.

And that's what I'm here to show you today. They're just trees I liked. I honestly never thought they'd be pictures I like too.

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