“what’s water?” asked the fish
as i go about my day, i am constantly scanning the environment for possible STILL subjects. what’s new? what’s happening right now? i continuously ask myself. “what’s here today that wasn’t here yesterday?” and then today, gazing into my backyard, i laughed out loud. why on earth am i looking past one billion green leaves every single day, to find tomorrow’s STILL subject. one billion leaves. i honestly do not think i am exaggerating. minnesota is green, green, green this time of year. why are flower blossoms more worthy than green leaves? why do i wait for fall to start photographing leaves again? what’s my bias against green leaves? because they are so ordinary? so common? so abundant? i challenge myself to make the ordinary extraordinary here on STILL. and yet, green leaves fell so far below my arbitrary cut-off, that they actually became invisible to me.
gingko leaves in summer
I was fascinated to see that the Boundary Waters to your north are at about the same elevation as us in the Berkshire hills of Massachusetts. That blows my mind a little every time.
Sorry! I meant that comment to be posted on the sand-map of Minnesota image.