I was at our local Hobby Lobby last evening, having a couple of photos reframed, when the adorable young man who was helping me asked where I bought the shots he was framing. Considering that I took them, the compliment was huge. Then the awakening moment. Not me that was complimented, but nature; the gorgeous little lives I was lucky enough to witness for that moment of photographic capture. Photography, to me, asks for all the instincts of the hunter, with none of the carnage. It’s the gratifying time spent under the sky, in a habitat not one’s own, appreciating the food source, the cover, the slant of the sun, the attack of the wind, the luck of the right-place-right-time. It’s the challenge of remembering that the hours spent not-getting shots are as valuable as those moments of click. It’s the tribute to the creatures whose lives are much, much tougher than mine. It’s the compliment of the guy at the framing desk that truly belongs to the birds.

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