Driving home this afternoon I had the great pleasure to witness some of the most amazing light I’ve ever seen. Though I kicked myself several times for not having my camera with me, this regret was quickly replaced with a feeling of gratitude, and awe. Around every corner, the combination of light and shadow, cool and warm hues, soft, fuzzy areas against extreme detail was nothing less than enchanting. Hillsides covered with rippled, undulating snow blazed both orange in the sunlight and shocking blue in the shade of the open sky. Fingerling icicles, hanging from every pine bough, were backlit by the huge orb of the setting sun. The meandering curve of the road intertwined with snowy tracks made by people, machines and animals alike. And though I took no photographs, this experience reminded me why I practice photography: it’s not an art or a science, a career or a hobby — photography is a way of life, a way of seeing, and a way of being in this world. I’m very thankful for the experience.
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