A Photographer's Journal

As the summer rolls on and I struggle to find photographic subject matter here in southern Appalachia, awash in green leaves, hazy blue skies and endless sunshine, I’ve apparently evolved.  I’m no longer trying to avoid the fishermen; in fact, I’m stalking them.  I watch them launch in the cool morning dampness from my perch in the shadows along the lakeshore.  I swat absently at the occasional gnat and consider that evolution. I’m struck by the parallels between their sport

I have an enduring love of these ancient mountains – the Blue Ridge Mountains of Appalachia. Especially on a morning like this. I sit very still, curled up and warmly comfortable, reading and listening to the low growl of thunder and patter of a soft cool mountain rain that is predicted to last most of today. Having so recently explored the nearby mountain woods of Lumpkin County, Georgia, I can visualize this same summer rain as it is happening there, indiscriminately soakin

It was close to 10 am and I was desperately looking to extend my morning here in the wooded mountains of Appalachia.  But I knew that the sun was close to breaking through the soft mist left by a soaking overnight rain. Tripod and attached camera slung over my shoulder, with the camera strap looped over my head just in case the camera came loose (it’s happened before), I headed downhill on the dirt road following Dick’s Creek toward its next waterfall. Minutes later, a man tr