SHRIEKS OF JOY

There is nothing to beat the euphoria and the flush of adventure we enjoy the moment we hike close to the radiance of nature and the soul and terrain it claims for us.

Whenever I choose a destination for my photo shoot, I drive to a place where I could trail into vast open spaces, where I get swayed like floating in a cool breeze, greenness blooming all around, rolling mountains waiting to see setting up my camera gear. I hold some time to allow my searching eyes to deflect away from the ripples of nature’s melodies and let them squint over the viewfinder to frame the colors reaching the row of mountains and beyond the ready to be harvested fields, waving grasses and glassy puddles.

In the swaying patterns of green, I see more hues than a human eye can enjoy. I’m alone now, along with a buddy who reverentially accompanies me, the affinity he holds as my former student. The landscape rolls before me as romantically as only cozy lovers can relate to, as I inch slowly about the quilt of grass damp and soft, I hear, from waving branches, tilting grasses, flowing fields, a surge: perhaps shrieks of joy – glad that someone has come, to frame, to snapshot their world of pure air rambling through open meadows, unspoiled views, with a camera perched over a tripod.