Friday, November 25, 2011

Growing in no one's garden

In the wild
London, ON, November 2011

The more time I spend outside in the murky grey weeks between the brightest autumn colors and the first snowfall (can't believe I just said that), the more I realize how much color remains. I know it isn't that brilliant, smack-you-in-the-face intensity of a tree seemingly on fire with red, but that doesn't mean it can't have an impact all its own.

It's a more subtle kind of color, a quieter message, a softer form of loveliness that doesn't reach out to us as much as it quietly asks us to lean a little closer. So on this not-so-bright, not-so-warm Sunday morning, I buttoned my coat up, tightened up my scarf and shuddered as the dampness reached inside anyway. And I slowed down, because I found I had to look harder to find what I was looking for.

As I composed the photo you see above, it occurred to me that the whole subtle-color thing extends well beyond photography.

Your turn: What do you see when you slow down and lean in?

One more thing: Click here for more muted Thematic.


dean said...

It's more than what I see, it's how I am. When I am moving more slowly and stopping to look with what I call a photographer's eye, I am happier, more balanced. I find that when my life is too busy to do that, I am out of balance.

For me, it is a form of walking meditation.

mmp said...

when i slow down and lean in......that's when i realise that it's been a while

i see.... a person who has yet to learn how to correctly blance my work and my life

then i give thanks, that i get the chance to start all over