I wonder why I am drawn to make photographs like this. A wintry, cold, overcast day in early January. Lake Johnson, in Raleigh, a walk I love to make often and have only begun to photograph. Rain the day before. Fallen leaves along the marsh’s margin. A somewhat dark composition, although the sky’s reflection and the grasses in the background give it a little tonal lift. Is the subject beautiful?
I think so, in my cracked way of looking at things. I’ve taken many photos like this over the years. I used to categorize them as “Common Places” but I think they’re more special than that. I don’t know how to label such scenes, but maybe it’s not necessary to do so.
Which gets me back to my original question: Why do I photograph a scene like this? That’s a question that’s at the heart of all art, I guess. I know some will say it’s not beautiful, but perhaps we will agree scenes like these are compelling in their own way; they focus attention, at least for a little while. Winter, they say. Death and rebirth. Darkness and soon the light.