Singular
I remember setting out that morning to drive an hour south so we could look at a fireplace that might be built in the house we were renting. The day was, as it often is at this time of year, mist filled in every dip and hollow and even heavier fog down on the flatlands of this one time sea bottom of a valley. And yet, just 20 minutes from here, when entering the next valley, the sun was out and the micro climate of that place made it into another day entirely.
I was shooting from the car as I often do and realized how frequently the single tree in the landscape appeals to me.
ONCE MORE AROUND THE SUN 
the bottom photo feels like brushed strokes of different textures across each saturated horizontal band of the picture, and this quickens the heart. I can feel it, from the car. The central tree in each photo is an iconic anchor. My eye doesn’t want to leave the gully in the foreground and get up into the mist, and the hidden colors, as if buried in tweed, radiate increasingly, beckoning me to linger. I repeatedly receive the reward of the steady tree in the mist. Especially I love the composition of the misty photo, and its promise of colors.
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