“Landscape photography is the supreme test of the photographer — and often the supreme disappointment.”
― Ansel Adams
To frame a landscape is simply a matter of making choices. All you have to do is study the light and shadows in a thousand blades of grass, and use them to frame the kaleidoscope of nature.
And hope, today, nature is on your side.
Each photograph is an experiment. And if the experiment goes pear-shaped, and you fluff the moment, the next moment is just two steps to the right with a slight adjustment of your perspective.
Then, you discover something new.
The photo below relates to the well known feeling of looking down a track that disappears across the horizon. To take us to the place we think we want to go to, yet not fully known.
The empty road that beckons the traveller to keep going is often found in poems, fiction, and is used as a metaphor to sum up life, and its ingoing moments.
Life often seems to be about a beginning. The start of something is the moment we set foot on the pathway into a new adventure. The unknown way — where apparently, we are told, many have walked before us.
The juxtaposition of dreams and reality, night and day, light and shadow, cause us to reflect on what we see. It’s as if the road ahead is, maybe, known. As if we’ve travelled it before, and we want to tread its dusty path once again.
Two steps right, one step back, and a new perspective gives us fresh ideas. A good photo to cherish as a memory of the ongoing moment.
It doesn’t have to be a decisive moment, just ongoing.
Each new beginning, not a setback, but a lesson; to approach life as if you are a beginner at every task, ensures that you keep your eyes open, and see new things along the way.
I have no intention of being an expert. As if crossing an imaginary finishing line, and pretending all the exploring, and experimenting is done and dusted. Nothing more to do than sit on a throne with jaded eyes.
There’s always something new to discover.
Cézanne painted the same mountain all his life. He knew there was so much to discover, and learn about what he was looking at.
Sometimes, I stand in a field and simply sop up all the blades of grass, watch the wind drift through leaves, listen to the rustle of nature, then a moment occurs when I push the button, and hope it was the right time.