Sunday, September 12, 2010
I grabbed my camera on my way out the door on Friday, thinking I'd take a few shots of my small group in their academic workshops to document my teaching activities. Won't need the extra battery or charger, I reasoned, since I didn't plan extended photography sessions.
Saturday morning was rainy, then obscured by mist. By the time evening fell, though, the sky was clear and the moon and stars seemed to hang near in the sky, ready to be plucked. Then this morning -- a nearly-fall crispness matched with the brilliant sunshine that makes the late summer green foliage glow from within. I couldn't stop taking pictures.
The view into the valley from the house where I stayed -- like looking onto a lit stage from a darkened theater.
Sunrise over Winthrop Rockefeller's cattle pasturage.
Across the field, the first horizon is only a few hundred yards away, stacked with the blue-tinged and distant ridges, then unblemished sky.
The swirling lichen patterns on this large rock by the side of the road reminded me of petroglyphs.
This was the shot that captured best what I was seeing and what caused me to keep snapping away until I ran out of battery. The luminescent green of the sun-drenched leaves, the china blue of the sky. Is it any wonder I wanted to linger on top of the mountain this morning?