“Water, in all its forms, fills the landscape. What was ice at night now flows and pools, seeping into the ground, providing nourishment to to forest. High above, moisture steams in the sunlit canopy. Spring thaw is upon us.” – Ed Lehming

The forest seems to be transforming every day, shifting from its winter repose to spring activity. There are times when I simply stand in the forest, quietly, and take it all in, trying to figure out ways to capture some of the feelings in my photographs. Much of what is happening is movement, slow and steady movement, accompanied by the sounds of the forest itself.

There are moments like this when the scene itself seems to fill in those elements. As I look back on the photo, I can hear the gentle flow of meltwater along the sides of the the trail, see the shimmer of the sun in the puddles, hear the sounds of cheerful birdsong; so long absent, and feel the gentle breeze on my skin, varying between warm and loamy to chilly, depending on its direction.

There is a feeling of awakening in the forest; a slow revelation of things hidden under the snow, as the winter blanket slowly recedes. It’s something that feels even more precious this year after months of lockdowns and the absence of physical interaction with friends and family. It feels like hope; like a return to something familiar. On the flip-side, it’s also a bit like this photo. The path ahead is clear but needs to be navigated carefully.

iPhone 12 Pro @ 4.2 mm
1/682 sec, f/1.6, ISO 32