For many photographers telling one’s F-stop, speed and lighting conditions is how they portray their story of an image they managed to record. That, indeed, is the technical side but for me the true story about the atmosphere one’s senses pick up of the day tells much more. The weather also plays the most dramatic of all roles. Inspired by the Impressionistic and Modern artists, when I take a photo I approach it as if I was doing a watercolor on rice paper, for watercolor artists can not redo their paintings. As a photographer I need a level of risk- the risk of never knowing if your timing is in sync with nature’s.
On one of the most wonderful summer days, which are now seeing me through the winter, I ventured to the Kennebec River for a walk and swim. The foliage on the riverbank was full, berries weighed down branches, milkweeds were poised to pop open. I put my toe into the water… not exactly tropical. Still, summer comes but once a year. Slowly, I took the plunge and much to my surprise found it refreshing, the day’s trials and tribulations melted from my mind as I took on the current swimming upstream. Drying off on a rock in the sun I was at peace once more.
The extremes of temperatures from the refreshing river to the baking rock steered my soul as I journeyed home. I was energized. As I rounded a bend I caught sight of a wild lily. I wondered how I managed to miss the exquisite bells on my walk to the water’s edge. The flower’s caught the sun and appeared transparent against the river’s back. So fragile, yet so strong. So vibrant yet so cold, like my swim. The wind gently swirled off the water. I moved my camera with the same direction as the wind’s song and took a series of images.
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