Lately I’ve been finding a lot of shadows in my photography travels. They’re always there, but we tend to see the foreground of things~ a flower, a leaf or a bird, and the rest is sort of a backdrop. Yet shadows have just as much character and movement as the real thing; swaying in the wind or flying underfoot. They are mysterious, giving you only the necessary details of a dark silhouette. The sun decides the length and angle of their reach, and the objects that they stretch out upon determine their texture and topography.
I have finally gotten my hands on a copy of a book by John Muir, The Mountains of California. It is a bit of a heavy read, as he was a bit of an intense observer, with an incredible attention to geographic detail. It is a lot of information to take in, but he describes it all with such poetic beauty. I find myself wishing high school textbooks could have captured my attention the same way. There is a beautiful paragraph on the transformative power of glaciers, and how they are made of tiny snowflakes (or snow-flowers, as he refers to them):
“Come, we are feeble; let us help one another. We are many, and together we will be strong.”