Presence

Field Notes II.XXXVII: On photographing a familiar location

Welcome to Field Notes!

As I tread steadily through this middle stage of life I begin to sense the ungraspable nature of time. It is like the ever present burble of a small stream; a melody so constant and subtle, like the beating of my own heart, that it just persists in the background until I slowly become aware that the sound represents a slipping away. Water and time, both an unfaltering flow.

The world is unimaginably vast and the 100 year span of a long human life is just not enough time to explore it. I sat alone on a windy mountain top, watching the dimming sun drop below dark and distant peaks while the skies above smolder in hues of orange and gold. Moments like those are a glimpse through the veil at what exists beyond this bland, monotonous, yet somehow anxiety ridden existence of modern life we have created for ourselves. Once you have an experience like that you can never fully go back.

How much water has trickled by in the stream already, unnoticed until now? I dream and I plan, looking for a way to move sustainably toward a life of adventure. I want to fill my time with moments of wonder. But in looking back at what could have been or forward to what I don’t yet have, do I risk losing the present moment?

September is slipping by. Afternoons are still warm, but early mornings carry a crispness in the breeze. That breeze whispers excitedly of the coming change of seasons. Morning darkness lingers and the glowing rays of dawn caress treetops already blushing with color.

The river whispers as well. It asks only that I be present in this moment, to witness the value of here and now before it flows past.

Sunday morning was overcast and quiet. I had hoped to try out a new foray into portrait photography sessions. With no taker on my offer, I chose to go to Ben Burton Park anyway, just to welcome what this day offered.

Ben Burton is a small park in Athens, Ga, near to my home. It is a familiar location that I have explored extensively. Sometimes, familiarity can be a benefit. Rather than being overwhelmed by the newness, it instead offers the opportunity to observe deeply and more creatively. On this day I viewed it with the eyes of experience.

The park extends along a stretch of the Middle Oconee River scattered with many rocky shoals. One rainy springtime I saw the entire park submerged in the swollen river, slowly flowing across the flood plain. This time, the water level was as low as I have ever witnessed. Rough rocks, blackened by their drowned existence, stood exposed between the rushing rivulets.

Copper sycamore leaves lay scattered on the banks. I took liberty and placed some prominently in the foreground for my photography. Cloud cover remained heavy as the sun rose high. Somewhere in the distant trees a red tailed hawk cried out.

The morning at the park came to its natural end. They day went on and I moved on to doing Sunday chores. The experience, though, stuck with me like the persistent scent of a campfire. The morning, with its subdued mood, was a powerful reminder of the value of being present in the moment.

Yesterday’s water is out of view, on its way to the sea. Water upstream has not yet reached these rocks. The water, like time, flows unabated. So, we must show up to watch and to listen. It is only right here, right now that we can hear the music of the river current as it tumbles through the shoals.

I enjoyed writing this essay today and I hope you got something out of it as well. I’m really looking forward to just getting outside for more photography as autumn progresses.

I do have some bigger adventure stories to present to you, though! In early September I went on an overnight trip to Jack’s River Falls in the Cohutta Wilderness. I’m working on material from that, but I also have a bit longer backpacking trip coming up a lot sooner than I thought. I may have something scheduled for next Sunday, or I may be sending out a post or two off schedule as a ‘Field Notes from the Wild’ from my phone while I’m out on the trail. I’m not sure exactly how it will work out yet. Stand by for adventure!

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And, as always, I invite you to take a look at my photography galleries. Landscape and wildlife photos are available for purchase as prints in a variety of sizes and mediums.