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.
