Another Door Opens

2012 has been an important year for me. This was the first year that I've spent in the mountains that that I've chosen to live in, and the first that I've been able to concentrate on building a body of work that I can be proud of.

I feel privileged to have been able to study the wilderness through the seasons. With every experience, I've learned a little more about the rich world that lies in the forests and mountains.  Each season brings new sights and smells to familiar trails, and sometimes the changes are so dramatic that the views are barely recognizable. The change from autumn to winter is particularly abrupt.

"Why do you flee so soon, sir, to the theaters, lecture-rooms, and museums of the city? If you will stay here awhile I will promise you strange sights. You shall walk on water; all these brooks and rivers and ponds shall be your highway. You shall see the whole earth covered a foot or more deep with purest white crystals . . . and all the trees and stubble glittering in icy armor."

The end of a year is traditionally a time for new beginnings, and possibly reflection on the time that has passed. I hope to be able to share From The High Country images with many more people in 2013, and I'm grateful to clients and supporters who have followed me through 2012.

If you'd like to help by providing some feedback, you can do so via my new questionnaire.

I'm excited to see what 2013 will bring, and I hope you'll join me. Have a Happy New Year!

Waiting For Winter

This time of year can feel like a kind of limbo. The magnificent display of the changing aspens has long since turned into leaf litter on the forest floor. The first flurries of snow have fallen and melted away, and while it still decorates distant summits, no other signs of winter are forthcoming.

The summer visitors and festivals are long gone, but they've left behind a sense of peace. The roads and trails are especially quiet during this period.

In the time between autumn and winter, it would be easy to think that there is little to see in the high country. Still, if you can appreciate the simple things, there is always a new discovery to be made.

On this Black Friday I'm enjoying the silence outside, and the views of the mountains that I'm getting to know like good friends. Living a simple life means that it isn't always possible to take part in the big sales and shopping trends, but a walk in the wilderness is worth more to me than any gift or gadget that I can think of.

“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is necessity; that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life.”  John Muir

To catch up with my latest work at From The High Country, you can go here.

Winter Approaches

As winter approaches and I prepare the cabin for the coming snow, I sometimes pause to reflect on the year that has passed by so quickly. While it was the same length as any other year, I feel that I've always been here, and that this is where I belong.

People have asked me if I still enjoy the wilderness, or if I still find interesting subjects for my work. The truth is that as I spend more and more time in the high country forests and mountains, my fascination only grows.

Each time I venture into the wilderness I learn a little more about my surroundings simply by being present and receptive to the lessons of the natural world.

Light snow has fallen in my small town for two consecutive nights. Although the afternoon sunlight causes the snow to melt, each morning brings opportunities to view wildlife tracks and picturesque glimpses of the winter to come.

Please visit From The High Country for more of my recent images, or take a look at the new "Scenes From The San Juans" 2013 calendar.

Fortune Telling

We all make plans at one point or another in our lives. Sometimes those plans are little more than a wish and little comes of those ideas. Even when carefully thought-out, we cannot control the future to the extent that each plan will become reality. Often we focus on certain aspects and subconsciously block problems, but perhaps that allows us to reach for the unlikely goals.

During my travels and exploration of the San Juan mountains, I often think of those who built the enduring structures that I find. Those people risked everything to reach their goals, and many lost their money or even their lives, while some prospered.

At the beginning of this year, I left a life in the city behind (seemingly abruptly, but it was the result of careful planning) and moved to the mountains that I now call home. I knew that I would inevitably make mistakes, but it is our ability to adapt and overcome that makes real success possible.

Through a series of coincidences I was recently able to secure space in a local downtown gift gallery, and I now have nearly 20 pieces on display. I'm fortunate to have such a great opportunity to reach people with my work offline, but I could not have taken so many variables into account and planned for this.

I believe that the only real failure is to do nothing. By taking no chances, you can almost guarantee that nothing will change.  With calculated risks and the resilience to adapt to changing circumstances, we can achieve much.
 

As I look outside I can see the leaves on my aspens beginning to change. Fall is coming...

To view new summer images, click here.

Reflections

A good photo is more than a pretty picture. It makes the viewer feel or think something. For this reason, photography is a blend of technical proficiency and artistry. As we are approaching the Thanksgiving holiday and the end of the year, an autumn photo still feels appropriate:

This shows some of the first trees to begin their autumnal display of color, while everything around them still looks and feels like summer.  The natural world moves on, whether we are ready or not! In a few days Thanksgiving will be over, so let's make the most of it, be good to each other and enjoy the ride....

Daydreams

As the air starts to cool, I'm reminded of early morning ascents in the wilderness, where leaves are dew-covered and woodland creatures are surprised to find humans in the early light of dawn. A rushed breakfast is easily justified by lunch near the summit. A name and an altitude are not required - just a view like this:

As a part-time photographer, I can't always wait for the perfect shot. The weather and lighting can make or break a good shot, but when travelling it is very difficult to justify a long wait. I have to shoot and move on, and sometimes discard otherwise good images. On this occasion, the weather was perfect. The last cornice (as I sometimes call this shot) provides a reminder of the harsh winter while the rest of the foreground is bathed in summer sunlight. The clouds suggest the peaks are almost pushing against the roof of the world, and at 2.65 miles above sea-level, it sometimes feels like it!