That camera traveled with me on may hikes through the woods. A run off stream from the local reservoir ran along the property line of our back yard, providing a few miles of woodlands, a stream bed and plenty of solitude. It was my zen place. The world around me disappeared when I went into those woods.
It was always my goal, back in those early film days, to try to capture the magic I felt amidst the dappled light of the leaves and the slick wet stones of the stream. A goal that always seemed out of reach.
Trees have a natural ability to drown out the noise of the world and replace it with the sounds of nature. Photos can't quite capture that magic in a photo. Walking through woods affects all your senses, not just your eyes. There is a certain smell as well as that particular sound too. The musty leaves on the ground, the rich soil or the swampy areas all add to that sensation. Unless you've experienced it, you can't get that from a photo.
I am still enthralled by a wooded landscape. Hiking among the dense New England trees, a deep soft bed of leaves on the ground, instantly transports me to a quiet place in my mind. Today it's with a digital camera and even though I know a whole lot more about photography than I did as a teenager, I still find myself unable to capture that magic feeling. Not for a lack of trying.
Somehow I doubt I will ever be satisfied with any image I make on my travels through the woods. At least not ones that would match my feelings. I know, I've tried, and I'll continue trying. Maybe some day.
I'll leave you with this final shot (from my previous post), a landscape of my favorite boyhood haunt, the Shelton Lakes reservoir.