I grew up among artists. My mom worked at museums all her adult life, she drew and painted, my sister made black and white photographs and my dad wrote poetry. I am an author of fiction when I am not behind the camera.

I never got the nerve to publish any of my photographs until recently, however, after observing an experienced photographer work with live models. He interacted with such ease and created such a trusting relationship, I realized that I wanted to do this, too.

I also wanted an activity to pursue in nature. Though I am an avid hiker, there are many occasions when the Midwest weather is just too cruel, or the trail too snow-laden to walk for very long. On those occasions I take out my camera. I go on that walk, despite the cold. I stay out just long enough to have an 'encounter.' 

What is that encounter?

It's a bird hopping clear of a thorny enclosure, picking at a scattering of seeds.

 

A squirrel, taking refuge from a hawk, but caught for a moment at an impasse -- its whiskers twitching as it scents a predator.

A withered leaf, crusted in ice, turning a facet of brilliance.

Are these visions performed for me?

When I'm there with my lens, quiet, awaiting these moments, it appears as though -- yes. They were prepared for me. 

And even if they aren't, I can will them into being, just a little at a time. If  I appear that day, with my camera, even with the ghastly weather.