Monday, November 16, 2020


As winter has come rolling in I have found less to photograph. All the greyed grey light doesn't help. Color has been steadily slipping away everywhere; no flowers, no butterflies, no bees, and what leaves there are have exhausted every hue as they burned them up in October.

Snow is lovely, but so white and so hard for me to photograph.

Sometimes I feel as if I am just taking my camera for a walk, and often, instead of coming home with 200 pictures, I have only six, or 12, or none at all.

But still, every once in awhile I do come across something I find interesting (or, at least, my camera finds it so). This happened recently with a patch of old Hosta leaves, bleached to the bones of their leaf structure. Their season was over. Soon the snow would bury them and only naked ground will be seen there when that snow finally recedes again in the Spring.

But Spring is far away from us now. 

We just dream that it will come again. Maybe it will. Maybe it won't. Only now is assured. And for now we have this.


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