Reflections and Lessons

Last December, when I sat down to write my last blog for the year, I struggled for words … for days. So, I found the images first. I did a “look back,” something I had never done before. After I collected the images, the words came. Here I am now in the last days of the month and year in a similar “floundering” state. When people say, “it’s been a year,” I understand.

We all experience the hills and valleys, the ebb and flow of life. I am no different. Lots of lessons in this year, and I am still in “student-mode” in the learning process. Actually, who isn’t? Learning is a good thing. It’s certainly better than a brick wall or being stuck in the mud and mire of life’s challenges. From this perspective, I approach another look back so I can also look ahead.

My love for flowers is deep within my heart. They fill me with awe, wonder and peace in ways beyond words. Bleeding hearts have a way of “dripping beauty.”

This image is a blend of two – a painter’s palette and a texture I created. What makes this so special for me is the heart that remains in one of the paint wells and that it belonged to the artist sister of a photography friend.

REFLECTIONS – THE LOOK-BACK PROCESS

I wondered how I would harvest the images from this past year. As I noted last December in my blog, I had never done “a year in review” of my images to gain a different perspective. This year, I started by looking at my calendar to see where I had been, what had happened, what I might have been doing … and where. This told me more about the “what” I had been shooting, which is a good start. I decided to dig a little deeper and look for images that spoke to me in the ”where” and share the “Why” in the captions. The “why” of anything – from every image as it was made to its selection for sharing – are different. Sometimes, there’s a deeper meaning to an image or subject – a connection. Other times, it’s not so complicated and more obvious.

Inside this shell is a hermit crab. I did all that I knew to do to create an image of “him” peeking out. The crab won the waiting game. As still as I thought I was, as ready as I was for “the moment,” nature said, “not this time.” I walked away after about fifteen minutes of laying on the sand.

Scenes like this remind me every time how wonderful an artist is in nature. Noticing the beauty created by water moving in the sand comes with being open and willing to slow down. Thankful for those humbling moments.

I would like to be able to say that every image I make is done with “intention,” and more often that is the case, but not always. Sometimes an image is made in the process of what one might describe as a scavenger hunt. This means that, perhaps, I was in the right place at the right time, and the subject appeared unexpectedly. Perhaps, I may not have made the image but for the noticing of a tiny detail that made me stop and stay longer.

Needless to say, it helped that I had most of the places I had been in my calendar and that the image folders were labeled for 2025. I don’t process all my images, but I do more regularly “star” my favorites. This makes it easier to review and make these selections. After gathering a bunch of my favorites from the year, I had to winnow down to a reasonable number. In addition, the reason for them, the “why” had to be clear to me at the time it was made and now, when it was selected.

Releasing the need for anything in focus and simply responding to colors and curves within the small area of tulips is what created for me an image that is all about softness and flow. It’s about letting go …

My year began and ended with Wabi Sabi (finding beauty in imperfection), and it is a concept that is woven throughout all the places I have been. My workshop travels took me north to Pennsylvania (including places I had never been to before) and Virginia, south to Charleston and two different areas in Georgia, and northwest to West Virginia for an unexpected adventure that inspired my October blog (Marooned in West Virginia). Throughout the year there were new and familiar places in my home state of North Carolina that were worthy of discovering, exploring and revisiting, as well as places close to home. The surprise for me was how much more photography close to home I had done. I had forgotten about many of my “within an hour” of home times I spent photographing and exploring. Of course, there were flowers. There are always flowers … friends and family. Thankfully, the year was filled with all three in precious doses.

This past September I visited Erie, Pennsylvania for the first time to present photography programs. A quick visit to Presque Isle State Park led me to this fallen leaf on boat covered with many coats of colorful peeling paint and introduced me to the beauty of an area new to me.

During that same Pennsylvania trip, another photography friend introduced me to the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania. While wandering through the early fall forest, I came upon a fallen birch that had the markings of a winter forest. I combined the birch bark image with an ICM image from my “almost Heaven” trail in West Virginia to create this one. Thank you, Bruce.

REFLECTIONS AND MEMORIES MADE

When I bought my first “real” camera many moons ago, I never considered where it would lead me. My path was not flood-lit with signs that said, “be a photographer” or “be a workshop leader” or “be a teacher, presenter or writer.” My path was mostly practical (and safe) and included seventeen years in the legal field as a legal assistant, riddled with incidental travels. It included joining NANPA (North American Nature Photography Association) and CNPA (Carolinas’ Nature Photographers Association) to advance my skills and to be inspired by others who connected with the beauty in nature. It included being co-founder of the Breast Cancer Resource Directory of North Carolina, a print and online resource that helped tens of thousands deal with that journey at a time when information and resources were hard to come by. It lived its life and now is but a stepping stone in the journey. Nowhere on the path did I see myself or envision doing what I do. Nowhere on that path did I see myself writing a monthly blog sharing images and personal perspectives.

No one would ever call me a bird photographer … So, when this happened, it was quite the moment I was not expecting. We saw this owl catch the grasshopper and land on the nearby branch – close enough for me to use my 100-400mm lens and get this image. The portraits I made were something, but this moment was special on more than a few levels.

I’m always reminding myself and others to slow down and pay attention. I would have missed this if it were not for another photographer friend pointing it out to me — the fallen rice locked in a drop of water on a perfectly placed elephant ear leaf. Thankful for generous friends. Thank you, Nicole.

Somewhere along the line I took the road I never saw coming. In doing so, I have been to places I would have never even known about. I have met and befriended many wonderful people I would have never known but for that first camera in my hand. I have learned much and have been inspired by many. I continue to trod on the path of a visual artist (a term that took me a long time to adopt). That path is oftentimes unclear, emotionally demanding. Other times, I am gratefully aware that it is utterly fulfilling. I am thankful for parents who taught me to persevere and for a family who spurs me on when the challenges get heavy. Quitting is not an option – evolving is.

As I looked back on just some of the favorite images of this past year, I realized that I remembered making each one. I remembered where I was, what I felt, who inspired me, what made the image and subject special. For each one, I could easily express “the WHY,” along with any backstory or lesson learned in the process. How awesome is that?

I would have missed this image on the remains of a denim weaving machine if it were not for the tuft of cotton that has probably been there since the mill closed. We find many images by paying attention and making connections. This one is about color and texture and a piece of industrial history.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Recently, I listened to a Mel Robbins podcast episode that was most enlightening (How to Make 2026 the Best Year: 6 Questions to Ask Yourself.) If you’re curious, I encourage you to check it out. Skeptical as I am of titles like this, listening to this particular podcast made sense. Interestingly, it encourages you to do your “year in review” with your phone camera roll, starting with January and moving forward. I have not done it (yet), but I have a feeling that it will be eye-opening, reflective, and that it will provide new perspectives for the look-back and the look ahead. One phrase stood out and made sense: “You cannot create directions for where you want to go unless you know where you are starting from.” Hmmm.

After looking over my year in “frames” with my “real camera,” I am able to echo the phrase I mentioned earlier – “It’s been a year” – with a new perspective. Even with the challenges, I can add a word and say, “It’s been a good year.” Clearly, no one promises smooth sailing. Life, like the weather, is different every day and filled with inconsistencies and unpredictable moments. When we lean in, we move forward. When we isolate and self-contain, we go nowhere.

This image reminds me that images are waiting for each one of us everywhere. These delicate pink flowers were just outside my front door, and playing with my Helios 44 lens made them even more magical.

I look forward to the coming year. I know that there will be that same ebb and flow under different circumstances, filled with challenges and triumphs, great and small. That is life. I look forward to meeting new people, to learning new things (in and out of the photography world), and to being inspired in ways I cannot predict or plan. I thank each one of you who has helped to make this year’s look back one that makes me smile. I thank each one of you who has offered kind words that have encouraged me along the way. I thank everyone who has joined me in the field through workshops and other opportunities. Your presence, enthusiasm and camaraderie continually remind me of how important connection and community is in this journey. We are so often “co-inspirers,” and that’s what makes seeing and being with fellow photographers so special. I wish everyone the very best always. Thank you, thank you, thank you! May we meet again soon on the road ahead!

One’s destination is never a place, but rather a new way of looking at things.

—Henry Miller

This image from Gibbs Garden was made with Lensbaby Velvet 56 in the 16×9 aspect ratio, not cropped. I had forgotten to change the camera back to FX (full frame). Just another “happy accident” as I would have cropped similar to this anyway.

Ranunculus. What can I say? Color, texture and layers upon layers of beauty that draws me in every time.

Camelia, the flower of cold weather – winter. The feeling this image gives me is peace and relief. Its simplicity in color and the softness in the glow almost hugs me. Even in winter the flowers keep giving.