All You Need is...One

 The past several months I have neglected getting out doing much of anything in the outdoors. Lots of reasons for that. Sad thing is, as a result my photography has suffered. The past few days I managed to get out again for a concentrated photo shoot with just me, my canoe, some camping gear, and my camera. I suppose this unseasonable change in the weather helped to jump start me out of my doldrums, so I head over to Kentucky's beautiful Barren River Lake for an overnight canoe camping trip. My intent was to refocus on my photography and hopefully rediscover the magic this creative art performs. As with most of my outings, I managed to take several hundred photographs...about half of which were...eeeah. The other half produced some okay images but nothing out of the ordinary...but...as I have often shared on this blog...all you need is one.

The first day was spent canoeing over to my favorite isolated camping spot...a nice, somewhat secluded cove with a commanding view of that part of the lake...a view that potentially offers some excellent sundown opportunities. After cooking myself a steak and fried potatoes supper over my small campfire, I settled back to wait for that sundown to develop. Turned out to be rather uneventful as clouds moved in and created a dull light that offered not much of anything.

I called it a day rather early and did some reading. The evening air started to cool down creating a very nice crispy feel to the night air. I was tired, so I shut off the small reading light and tried to get some sleep. Sleep always seems to avoid me especially on my first night out like that, but somehow I managed to drift off, waking several times during the night to shift my position trying to relieve a stiff back. When I finally did fall fast asleep, the night went by rather quickly and I awoke to the sound of an irritated blue heron squawking like he'd been insulted. I raised up a little and realized that squawking heron had done me a huge favor. The sun was still several minutes from rising but the sky out front of my camping area was glowing with a soft delight. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed my camera. When I stepped out onto the sandy/gravel beach area, I was greeted with a wonderful layer of fog that drifted across the lake. Fog on this lake is one of its treasures and this time of year when the water is still warm and the air is crisp and cool...well I was hoping for such a morning. 

I chased the light here and there capturing quick images then I worked my way over toward where a small cove slices into the peninsula I was camped on. Across the way about a hundred yards or so a small point of land juts into the lake and behind it a heavy layer of fog drifted through the trees and over the water. The light was magical, soft, blue, and accented by the fog drifting across the landscape. The subtle greenness of some bushes and the stark portraiture of distant tree trunks caught my photographers eye. The shot I was waiting for...looking for...hoping for materialized out of the morning air before the sun invaded the landscape and ruined the moment. I pointed my camera. Framed a few quick images. Snapped several shots. Readjusted my exposure and shifted my position slightly and fired off another quick image or two. The in-camera results looked promising and I thought maybe these might produce something usable.

Fast forward to the next day after I had returned home. I managed to offload those images and browse through them when I came across that small series I just described. My Ansel Adams creative mindset started to kick in in color and I began to explore what those images offered. When I finished with the final image, none of the others I took mattered much after that. Like I said...all you need is...one.