Do you guys like winter or summer tell your opinion...

More...

From an October morning a few years ago, a fisherman is out in the fog just after sunrise.

Calling ~ October 2023

This fallen monarch of the forest once stood regally on a distant shore. It now lies in repose with no less beauty than when it stood strong and tall. Time will eventually absorb it back into the earth from which it once pulled sustenance. For now, it lies partially buried in the loose gravel along the shore of Jackson Lake. Its branches refuse to give up and still reach for the skies.

As twilight sweeps in from the east, it carries with it the magic of light tinted in soft hues. It flits across the sky and is absorbed first by the towering peaks to the west. Slowly, the color pours down the mountains and begins to illuminate the lower regions. Fog, rising wistfully from the water, drifts across the lake as if answering the summons of an unseen voice calling from across the waters. Its motion is mesmerizing and mysterious. It makes me want to fall in behind it and find the source of this powerful voice.

Now, as the shadow of the Earth itself is chased across the landscape by the rising Sun and off into tomorrow, a photographer sits on the frosty ground. His camera pushed down into the very gravel that will eventfully consume this tree, he marvels at the beauty in front of him. Gratefulness washes over him in soft waves. Perhaps, much like the fog, I am also drawn to that same powerful voice across the waters. I am content to silently listen to the start of the day and occasionally push the shutter release.

A few weeks ago in New Hampshire.

A foggy morning photo from Montana.

Maddox Cove. Near St. John’s, Newfoundland, Canada. About 20 kilometres north of where Netflix shot Below.

​

Snapped on the way to work. Slightly dialed up the saturation to bring out the fall colors.

Foggy morning...