Winter is well suited for contemplation. Spring, I’m reminded lately, is not. Spring is, rather, for living in the moment, moving constantly from the enjoyment of one beautiful, wonderful thing to the next, trying not to dwell on the fact that you’re probably still missing something wonderful. Nothing sits still, lingers or waits for you. There is a great tension of panic and excitement that wells up inside of me at the recognition of this. I feel a little like my children, oh so impatient to be done with phonics and math, oh so eager to run outside and not miss a single glorious day of this fleeting season.
And to be honest, that’s kind of what I’ve been doing. I’ve been so busy in my spare time taking pictures of the world exploding to life lately, I’ve had little time to think of composing words to accompany them and little motivation to sit down and apply myself to the task. This is what happens to severely cabin-fevered Minnesotans after over half a year of winter, I suppose. Finally, I’ve realized that soon I’ll have more pictures in my files than can ever properly fit in one blog post and I’d better quit waiting around for writing inspiration and just send them out into the world before they’re completely out of date.
Besides, I suspect the words of this ancient Psalm sum it up far better than I ever could. Welcome to a little glimpse of the glory of spring that I’ve been reveling in.
“How good it is to sing praises to our God, 
how pleasant and lovely to praise Him!
Great is our Lord, and mighty in power;
His understanding has no limit.
Sing to the LORD with thanksgiving; 
make music on the harp to our God, 
who covers the sky with clouds,
who prepares rain for the earth,
who makes grass to grow on the hills.
He sends forth His command to the earth; His word runs swiftly.
He provides food for the animals,
and for the young ravens when they call.
Hallelujah!”
(Excerpts from Psalm 147)
Favorite Bucket List Score: A non-blurry close-up photo of a hummingbird has been on my list for a long time. If you know how fast these little beauties move, you know why I considered this opportunity a gift! This wasn’t the only shot I scored, either—and you can check out all of them in 
Favorite Associated Memory: Not surprisingly, my favorites are often so because of the stories and memories behind them. 
Favorite Travel Shot: I really had a hard time choosing, but oddly enough, I ended up settling on this one that never even made it into a blog post! (Thus, a bonus photo for you!) My reason is solely based on the humor of the situation. This is a wild turkey mama who apparently doesn’t believe in broadcasting photos of her family for the world to see. She paraded them daringly along the edge of the road, oblivious to traffic roaring by—but when I tried to discreetly poke a camera lens out the truck window, that was a different story. She has at least six chicks, who are down there in the grass by her feet hiding. I’m really not sure if that’s a twinkle of mischief in her eye there, or a glint of suspicion, or just a look of triumph for foiling my designs. She granted me this one cameo peekaboo shot, and that was it.
Favorite Action Shot: The story behind this one can be found 
Favorite Landscape: The more you get into photography, the more you obsess about light. The absence or presence of the right kind of light, outside of actual studio photography, is something you chase after, wait for, wish for, do your best to contrive for, but cannot ever completely control. When you catch it, its a glorious moment. I passed this roadside bed of fire weed many times this summer, but it wasn’t until just the right shaft of late-afternoon golden light hit it, spotlighting the blossoms against the dark backdrop of forest, that it actually became worth stepping on the brakes for.
Favorite Car Window Shot: Hands down. It makes me smile every time I look at it.
Favorite Floral: Obviously I wasn’t the only one who appreciated the cornflower blue of these bachelor buttons in my flower garden this year!
Favorite Challenge (as in the photos I worked the hardest for): That would definitely be any photo containing otters. Just don’t ask how many photos I actually took to secure those I deemed worthy to share with you (you can view a couple more in 
Favorite Nature Close-Up: I love the contrast of this perfect autumn leaf from my parent’s maple-rich yard posing on their picnic table.
Favorite Sky Capture: this alignment of the storm clouds and big round moon just after sunset was so stunning, and I enjoyed the extra fiddling with my camera required to expose those lunar craters just right! It rated high enough in my small world to become my desktop wallpaper. It must have appealed to you, too, because it also rated as the post with the most views for 2017!
This was the most magnificent sunset I have seen in my life, and the pictures (yes, they’re both from the same evening) hardly do it justice. It was also the one redeeming feature of the most severe summer storm I’ve had to drive through in my life. That was the road trip in which we missed half-dollar sized hail by a mere couple miles and because it was raining so hard could see nothing but the taillights ahead of us for what seemed like eternity (probably more like fifteen minutes). It was unforgettable all around.
“Why are there ducks zooming around and around our house?” I asked my husband between bites of pizza. It was our youngest daughter’s first birthday, and we were celebrating out on the porch. There was a chocolate cake resting in state on the kitchen counter, awaiting its demise, and the sunshine of a splendid June day was slanting long across the green fields. She was grinning happily as blueberry-purple-carrot puree dribbled down her chin onto her bib, oblivious to the fact that this was all supposed to be about her. “It’s almost like they’re playing or something.”
poked its head in the chimney…
…and then disappeared! What?!
Every spring, there’s this short window of time, just before the ice goes out, in which there are little open areas of water around the edges of our lake. All the waterfowl congregates in these puddles and pools to forage for food and paddle around in one great companionable waiting game for the lake to open.
The ducks and geese seem to have a mutual agreement that it’s a nice little community event, too, and mingle quite nicely.
Such a fuss we had from them, of fiercely territorial wing-flapping, neck-bobbing and trumpet-blasting, particularly when another pair of swans would come in for a landing (on a multi-daily basis). It was all very exciting, and we’re going to rather miss it now that the lake is open and the spring festival is over.
Rejoicing Hills 