Late afternoon, an hour before dusk, I had the urge to abandon the warm comforts of my room in exchange of catching a photo or two in the shivering cold. I seized that jolt of energy and grabbed my camera and hit the road. I took a right out of my neighborhood, then just meandered further back. I pulled down a gravel road, and lie ahead were a herd of turkeys. Unfortunately, their waddle-pace picked up by the time I reached them, preventing a clean shot. So I proceeded to ramble back into the unknown territory.
Earlier that afternoon, as I accompanied my mom to the train station, she asked me about the frequency I’ve been taking pictures. I made an indolent remark emphasizing a lack of picturesque spots and a brief case about the weather being cold. My stance wasn’t very credible, but the conversation flowed onto something else.
The real answer: I’ve been in a bit of a funk recently, and instead of marching out of the house to shoot photos with great zeal, I’ve been playing games in my own mind. Photography really boils down to perception. In addition, weather conditions change each day, therefore, a photo can always be framed in a unique way.
I veered off onto another narrow road, which led me across an old stone bridge, above a creek which led to the flowing Perkiomen river on my left. Then, I pulled around the bend, and beautiful vast farms were on both sides. It was about dusk at this point, adding a calming-colored tone to the sky.
I snapped some photos and rambled around the area, as patrol dogs watched me from a distance. It was cold, but still refreshing to get outside and capture the scenery. With that, I’m sure my mom detected the bullshit earlier–she knows me well enough.