Amuse Your Reverie | Portrait of a Photog

A photo of yours truly on the top of Glacier Point in Yosemite back in June (2014).

There is some kind of a sweet innocence in being human- in not having to be just happy or just sad- in the nature of being able to be both broken and whole, at the same time.
― C. JoyBell C.

Syracuse Photographer

Self Portrait | click image to enlarge

The beauty of the wild is that she is indifferent.  Happiness or sadness. Broken or whole. Human, stone, or otherwise, it does not matter. And that’s why I love it. She treats me the same no matter what. The expectations are the same, the game is the same.

Beyond the wall of the unreal city … there is another world waiting for you. It is the old true world of the deserts, the mountains, the forests, the islands, the shores, the open plains. Go there. Be there. Walk gently and quietly deep within it. And then —

May your trails be dim, lonesome, stony, narrow, winding and only slightly uphill. May the wind bring rain for the slickrock potholes fourteen miles on the other side of yonder blue ridge. May God’s dog serenade your campfire, may the rattlesnake and the screech owl amuse your reverie, may the Great Sun dazzle your eyes by day and the Great Bear watch over you by night.
― Edward Abbey

Some days I wish for anonymous benefactors. More publications to my name. No student loan debt, please no student loan debt. Do-overs on some parts of my life. A new truck. Blah blah blah.

But that’s all stupid.

The biggest thing I wish for is the ability to always explore, to always walk gently and quietly deep within. I hope I always have the physical ability to go to wild places, and not only that, but encounter wilderness with all 5 of my senses. I hope I never lose the urge to wander.

That lack of urge is what scares me most in the winter time.

It is always a harder thing to do in the winter. It takes real discipline (at least for me) to force myself into carhartts & winter gear and into the cold. It takes so much more energy to tromp through a couple feet of snow through the frozen woods. It takes more energy to see the beauty beyond the bleak grey skies and barren white washed landscapes. And yeah, I get jealous of others who can hop flights to sun-drenched else-wheres in the name of photographic exploration during the winter. But then I begin to notice the little things…tracks from the fox gingerly meandering through the swamp, cocooned moths glued to branches, where all the paper wasps have been building their empires high in the canopy — and I soon forget I begrudgingly came out here in the first place. I don’t even mind when I face plant in the snow after tripping on a log hidden beneath the snow’s surface. Yeah, that happened this week. But I was high-fiving myself because I fell with super hero-like powers and kept the hand that had my camera high up above the snow pack.

That’s right, by the time I have made it back in to dry and warm up by the wood stove I remember that I really love it. Even when it’s brutal weather conditions.

Here’t to always being able to walk deep within it. No matter the season.


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