Words + Images

When I first picked up a camera a few years ago, I mostly took pictures of trees and forests.  Now I most often take pictures of branches and leaves.   Outside my window right now are the mostly bare branches of a great oak tree.  I say mostly because I can see hanging on with great tenacity a small rust colored leaf.  It is the only one, and though the wind blows quite heartily, that leaf does not fall.  Not yet.  There is great beauty, great strength in the tree that towers over my room, but so is there in the leaf.  From my perch at my desk I cannot get a full view of the tree,  of its magnificence, but the leaf attached to its branch fills my vision.  To sit and reflect on a leaf is one of those magic moments of rest that I think helps me get through the more hectic parts of my life.  A moment of rest and reflection and a heightened awareness of simple rustic beauty … that is what it is like to read Carin Berger’s The Little Yellow Leaf.

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