Big fat flakes of snow are blowing around outside. They seems to hover just before hitting the ground, then linger there for a few moments until they are just a plain old drop of water or two on a blade of brown grass.
Its nights like last night that make me wish I had a better camera. The sliver of moon was visible in short glimpses through dark and gray, wispy clouds. The kind of shot that your eye can see, but that my cheap digital camera would capture as a small blurry light in an otherwise black screen. No hint of clouds, no depth to the picture, and most importantly, no sense of the natural beauty that my own eyes can see.
I don’t get upset when I can’t get these shots with my camera. Most of the time it’s enough just to witness the scene, but I do desire to share some of these moments. Like last week when two does leisurely walked through the yard. The only non-blurry shot I got of them was one where the deer is walking directly away from me. Not a great picture to share (close your eyes and visualize it…).
A lot of the scenes that excited me so much during the winter are now kind of common place. Like the chickadees coming to the bird feeders. It’s still great to watch the little birds up close so much, but I don’t tip-toe over to the big window with my camera every time they show up anymore. When the turkeys woke me up last week, I looked, saw what was out there and then went back to bed.
But, after six months, this place has lost none of it’s charm, and I have lost none of my amazement at the opportunities to wonder in nature that living out here provides.