Walks Archives • Page 4 of 7 • Andrew Crusoe

‘Twas a brisk Saturday morning as I headed down a familiar road and took the occasional right turn. I had been down this gravel road before and recognized the small trailer houses and that one Jeep that never seemed to move. Just before the road ended, I took a quick left turn and zipped down an inclined path that led through the forest and down to the riverside.

Of course, I had been here before, as well. Earlier in the summer I came here on occasion and, through the course of the season, saw a broken swing replaced with a freshly painted one, almost as if magic gnomes did it. Of course, gnomes didn’t do it. If they had, the yellow paint would not have obviously faded since then.

An Eye for Detail

It was rather quiet here, and I had never photographed this place before. I began looking at the area with an eye for detail. I noticed a tree with pocked marks on it and guessed that it must be from a woodpecker. Unfortunately, I am not a naturalist and cannot confirm this.

Stopping only briefly to snap a shot of a hazardous sinkhole down to certain death, I noticed that the sheerly broken oak stumps reminded me of tiny futuristic skyscrapers and went in closer for a macro shot. Macro shots can be quite enjoyable because they force one to examine the true texture and form of an object, and they also give one a good opportunity to use a wide aperture which blurs the background yet keeps the subject in perfect focus. By using Macro, one can experience life through a chipmunk’s eyes, for instance.

He Strains His Life

Ever committed to getting a great perspective, I leaned on a tree overhanging the river to capture a shot of another curving tree over the lake. Then I noticed how the wind affected the water and took a few shots of the ripples in the lake, as well. Because I was now being shaded by the trees and using zoom, less light was reaching my sensor, so I had to turn up the ISO speed – otherwise every shot would have been blurry.

I did what can best be described as “unleaning” from the tree and noticed a big change from the last time I’d been here. The once half-submerged little aluminum boat was now turned upside-down and propped between some trees for the winter. Somehow it looked comical, and I snapped a few of the boat.

The Rainbow Rocks

Satisfied, I headed down the narrow stairs to the dock. I noticed that the boat’s usual resting place now had an array of interesting pebbles and sand formations where the boat had once been. Indeed, even the pebbles were beautiful that day, and I discovered The Rainbow Rocks, a collection of very small pebbles that was pleasing to the eye. I then snapped a few more Macro shots by the dock, this time taking a photo of the metal loop used to tie a boat onto the dock.

As I was walking back up the stairs, I noticed that even the lichen on the trees had photographic potential and used super macro mode to capture the fine detail of the lichen on the oaks. Looking around for the last time, I seemed to have captured most of the points of interest here and headed towards the gravel road. It was a good photo shoot, and I learned that most anything can be interpreted artfully if one can wield an eye of detail to behold it.

What do you think? Was there anything I ought to have done differently?

Photos from this trip are in The Rainbow Rocks. All photos can be used as desktop wallpapers because they are high resolution (1920×1440) just as the fullscreen & widescreen wallpapers are.

Often, great adventure is just beyond what one is prepared to explore. One can go for years and miss a seemingly obvious entry-point into new territory. Of course, while this can be applied metaphorically to many areas of life, I discovered this quite literally when I decided to take a chance a few weeks ago and venture into a path I had never thought to look down before.

I have no regrets.

Predictable Start

Quite predictably, my trip began with me wandering around the area on my bike. It was morning, and I needed some fresh air. I had passed this path dozens of times before, but this time I took the path. The path took me south past a small pile of short logs, but most of the path was rather nondescript as forests go. It was a fresh, brisk day, and the huge trees swayed in the breeze above me.

Decision at the Fork

At last I came to a fork in the path. I opted to continue south and could see a few fiery orange tree tops in the distance. I explored further south and soon came to a junction of four paths. East seemed like a good choice, so I went left. Some paths I did not go down and took photos of their mysterious paths instead. Continuing on, I began to pass more beautifully-colored maples and oaks.

After some time, I almost felt lost, but I knew I could find my way back. I began retracing my steps through the complex network of paths and found a new way back to the road. I’ve learned that whenever one is following a path from the opposite direction, one sees a completely different perspective. This is why so many people get lost.

Vindication

One can imagine my relief when I saw the small pile of logs again. Then I realized how many thoughts were sloshing around my mind, and I sat on the logs.

I remained there for some time. I did not sleep or dream. I only relaxed and imagined solutions to my thoughts.

When I emerged from this meditation in the forest, I found everything seemed calmer, and the forest seemed clearer. I walked the remaining distance to the road and passed the most shriveled plant stalk I have ever seen. It was so pathetic that it deserved having a photo taken of it as well.

The Lesson