Saturation

My brother taught me that rainy days provide some of the best opportunities for nature photography. Even though bright sunny days seem optimal, the color is most saturated on days like today.

The rain is more welcome than I had anticipated. This week's dose of spring sunshine was exhilarating, but the rain is what I needed.


I'm not a true nature girl, but I relish the power of nature to lift me outside myself, to provide gentle external larger-than-myself motion that somehow quiets my mind. It's why we love the seashore and the fireside. The waves and the flames create a rhythm that's far more harmonious than the frantic rhythm of our own minds. So I submit to the motion of the rain and the drama of the thunder, and I find some of the clarity I've buried beneath the debris of my thoughts.

Taking the camera out in the rain also brought the opportunity to spend time with loved ones. My mom's Garden Angels keeping watch over the flowers, my grandmother's old water pump, and my husband's grandfather's wagon wheel.

Moving On

I just made a familiar commute for probably the last time. A short-term arrangement took me periodically to a town a few hours south of home, and now my reason for driving there is gone. I've never been one to be sentimental about the past, but I'm entering what I sense will be a period of change that will challenge me more than any before.

I shall miss Route 29, oddly enough. I've grown up a lot on this road, perhaps more than I have almost anywhere else. My first dozen trips were fraught with sadness and fear. Incrementally, the anxiety was replaced with quiet happiness and optimism.

This time, there was wistfulness. These days are good days, and I'm not sure I want to let them go.