Surface, close in

I appreciate panoramic views but that’s not where my heart it. Maybe it started when I built my house in New Hampshire on a second-growth woodlot far from the road. Living in those woods, there was no panorama, no “view” beyond the trees I felled to get enough sunlight for the possibility of a garden. So I looked for vistas closer to home rather than views of Mount Ascutney in the distance.

At least that’s one theory…

I do know, after looking down at reflections in the water of various ponds, it’s been a pleasant change to look up at trees. Or up close at trees. And I’ve found a great deal to look at in the bark and branches of trees, a lot of stories of their lives and trials.

I’m working on a series of shots of the bark of trees, sort of intimate portraits, some in vibrant health, some in decline; some soaring, some struggling. But always the persistent, tenacious, slow-living creatures that surround us, and about which we know so little. It’s a new connection, one I hope to nourish.