A Journal Entry 2025 “The mountains stir my soul”
The mountains stir my soul, their quiet grandeur shaping every photograph I take. Beauty here isn’t just in the vastness—it’s in the nuance, the subtle details that whisper eternity. Rhododendron petals, soft and fleeting, cling to my shoes, their delicate pink a tender contrast to the earth’s rugged embrace. The forest unfolds in countless shades of green, each tree a distinct voice, each leaf a study in shape—jagged, curved, or serrated—sparkling when a breeze flips them to catch the sun’s fleeting glow.
Fog dances over the lake, sometimes hovering, dissolving into the water’s mirror, blurring the boundary between sky and earth. It’s a quiet alchemy, a nuance that shifts with every breath of the mountain. Birdsong echoes through the canopy, weaving beneath the steady rhythm of distant waterfalls. The emerald-green water holds a reflected forest, a submerged world where light and shadow create a firmament, a delicate threshold between heaven and earth.
I’ve watched a bear cross the lake, its silhouette a fleeting monarch in the dawn’s tender light. I’ve heard a tree fall, its crack a reminder of time’s quiet persistence. Once, I heard a deer giving birth in the woods, life unfolding in the stillness, raw and sacred. Petals float on the water’s edge, carried by the gentle trickle of a creek into the lake’s embrace. The light tree trunks stand stark against the forest’s shadowed depths, a nuanced interplay of contrast that stops me cold.
These mountains teach me that beauty lives in the subtle—in the way fog shifts, in the texture of moss, in the fleeting ripple of a petal on water. They fuel my art, demanding I look closer, past the obvious, to capture the delicate pulse of the wild. My lens and heart seek these nuances, framing moments where the ordinary becomes divine. To photograph the mountains is to chase their quiet truths, to translate their soul into images that sing of eternity’s subtle grace.
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Much Love,
Erika