There’s a big rock to one side of the trail as you head up the first hill. It’s an imposing thing, as is proper for an old limestone quarry (that’s what Barn Bluff was from 1870 to 1910, before folks started protesting the defacing of the bluff and getting adamant about preserving it as a historical landmark).
The thing is, even though I’ve tromped this hill every single day since the beginning of the year, I couldn’t tell you if it’s been there the whole time, or just since the workmen laid new gravel and grated the path smooth. It didn’t impinge on my awareness until after the work had been done. At that point, for whatever reason, it became noticeable.
It’s all in the focus. Not just for photography, where the wrong focal point can take a picture from stellar fine art material to ‘meh.’ But for your own internal world, too. I was scrolling Facebook yesterday, and came across this meme where two children of an alcoholic parent demonstrated a difference in focus: One grew up to become an alcoholic themselves, and when asked why, said, “I watched my parent;” the other never touched a drop of alcohol in their life, and when asked why, said, “I watched my parent.”
Same household. Same environment. Same stimulus. Different result, because of that quirky, random, difference in focus leading to a difference in choice… even if that particular story is made up, the possibility – or more likely, the probability – of it being true exists.
Anyway. My own particular focus today was on the clouds – aren’t they great?!? It was a morning where the wind and clouds spoke of incoming storm; wild potential borne on the fierce breeze and fast-moving skies. Totally messes with your photo if you want to freeze time but your camera and the light levels don’t cooperate to get your shutter speed high enough; darned near ideal if you want that bit of blur that shows the motion of the air.
Getting a bit impatient for a grand old spring/summer thunderstorm.