You could say I wasn't having a good day. Without going into detail, I had messed things up, and was suffering the consequences. Feeling very anxious and "out of sorts", I headed down to the creek with my camera. Looking around, I saw the same landscape I had photographed a thousand times before. Nothing new or interesting immediately presented itself, and I wondered why I had even bothered to walk down the steep hill from the cabins above. It was hot, and about as humid as a steam bath. I stood for several minutes, watching my dogs swim across the creek and run around the edge of the island.
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At some point, I noticed the sound of the moving water, and started to relax a bit. The more I listened and looked, the better I felt, the presence of the creek beginning to soothe me as it always had. Nothing to take pictures of, I thought, but at least I can sit here and meditate. Suddenly the appearance of one of the dogs on the other side of the creek drew my attention, and as I gazed across the water, I was suddenly struck by the bright, almost neon green color of reflected vegetation on the water's surface.
It rippled and shone, in dazzling patterns, lines, and swirls as the reflections were animated by the movement of the water and the changing light. Mesmerized by the dance of light across the surface of the creek, I turned on the camera and began to focus on what looked to me like a magical, ever-changing abstract painting.
The patterns of shapes and lines were most dramatic where the creek rushed around a large rock. The closer I looked, the more I saw it not as water, but as shapes and colors.
The effect was hypnotic. In some ways, when I zoomed in closely, it didn't look real.
These photos are strait out of camera, and haven't been altered in any way.
Each image drew me further and further in, until I lost myself completely in the colored shapes and lines.
Water, light, and color can do some pretty amazing things together.
Things that we often take for granted, or don't even notice.
Further down the creek, I noticed this.
I'm glad I noticed. In the words of Mary Oliver:
Let me keep my mind on what
matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and
learning to be
astonished.
