In the hour before sunset, walking through the wooded section of Piney Woods Church Road, my eye was caught by three shriveled brown leaves caught on the branch of a shrub. There was something sensual about their curving forms, and about the way they held the late-day sunlight. Perhaps “sunsual” is the most fitting word to use.
Again I will break my unwritten rule of only one photograph per day. I have to admit that I love this image of this male pine warbler perched on a fence in the late afternoon.
I set out with every intention of photographing the sunset. After all, it is one of those things that all outdoor photographers inevitably do from time to time. And, I am proud to say, I took quite a few sunset photos from Piney Woods Church Road. It was, without doubt, the slowest sunset I have ever witnessed. I stood at the edge of a cow pasture, hands in pockets, waiting. The pockets kept my fingers from getting numb, but in the 25-degree air (with winds gusting to 25 miles per hour), I could feel my wrists getting numb where they were exposed between pocket edge and coat sleeve. While I waited, I snatched what photos I could, including more cows, winter weeds in the golden hour light, and a few quick-flitting LBJ’s (little brown jobs, as ornithologists affectionately refer to small brown nondescript birds). Usually, by the time I would have the camera lens zoomed and focused, the bird would be long gone from its perch. I would wait a few more minutes, another bird would perch somewhere, and the race against the clock would begin again. Photographing small birds is, for me, a bit like entering the lottery. Perhaps it was my lucky day — I learned this morning that I won a prize in a drawing at a school where I used to teach — but I was surprised to find when I returned home that a couple of my LBJ shots were actually quite lovely. My day’s contribution to this project is a small bird — a sparrow, perhaps? — perched in the tree branches beside a pasture along Piney Woods Church Road. The bird has fluffed up its feathers, doing its best to keep warm. It is comforting to know that I wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of the arctic blast that has covered the Piedmont of Georgia.
It was a cold day by Georgia standards, with the temperature just a couple degrees above freezing, though without the harsh wind of yesterday afternoon. Ice had formed along the edges of the ditch beside Piney Church Road. The sky was deep blue, the sunset less than spectacular, but a delight to see anyway, after so many cloudy days of late. While waiting for the sunset, I hung out with some cows who were at least as curious about me as I was about them. I could see their breath in the late afternoon air.
After viewing the stone piles along the Gorge Trail at Little Mulberry Park in Gwinnett County, my wife and I continued along the Gorge Trail. We soon arrived at the banks of a small, swift-flowing stream. It was that magical time of day photographers call “the golden hour”, and the lighting on the rushing water was stunning. Enraptured, I took photograph after photograph. Here, I would like to share a few of them with you. While I may not have encountered the sacred amid the park’s stone piles, I did meet up with it there, along the stream, during a few golden moments.
