
I guess that I’m a creature of habit, or perhaps lazy. I find that I don’t like, all that much, to go to so many different places and get many different photographs. All it does is confuse me. That is to say, I don’t know what it is that I’m trying to say when I go to a new place. Sure, it’s easy to get caught up in the grandeur of the mountains, the vast open spaces of the beach, or the mystery of a swamp, but those are the shouts. The big “Look at me voices”. Below that, there is something quiet. That’s what I seek.
It’s kind of odd. Sometimes I don’t hear that voice, even though I know that ultimately, it’s the voice that soothes. It’s the voice that makes me smile when I place my CF card into the reader and see what I got. To see if I heard. When I listen to the shouts, I usually end up with pictures that are simply ‘nice’ and have little meaning to me. The easy shots. The ones that are easy to delete.
I’ve been trying to stay away from the field across the street, but it continues to call, so I continue to go. I know that I cannot exhaust all that it has to offer to me. All I have to do is to be quiet and listen. Its gifts are endless.
Today, I discovered this little cluster of flowers. I was just out for a casual stroll through the field, 50mm lens mounted, to see what I could see. This is what I saw. These flowers were growing in an area that had been intended for a small flower bed, but has obviously not been tended to. It was overgrown with weeds and dead or dying vegetation, but these guys didn’t seem to mind.
It’s amazing how many cars go by this field, how many people walk by, or through, and how much of it gets ignored. They continue to cut the grass, yet the clover keeps right on flowering as if nothing happened. It seems as if it is hanging around waiting for me to start my book on Monday. Perhaps it is waiting. What a nice thought.

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