On Reflection...

For the past month, members of the Outer Banks region of the Carolinas Nature Photographers Association (CNPA) have focused on "Reflections" as our monthly theme. As I write this blog, the cold northeast wind is gusting over 40 mph, driving rain sideways. The Outer Banks is noted for nearly constant winds--that's the main reason the Wright Brothers came here from Ohio to test their gliders in preparation for the first powered flight on December 17, 1903. Ranging from light breezes to strong gusty gales, Outer Banks air is seldom still. That makes mirror reflections more of a challenge here than in areas with calm, clear lakes or slow-flowing rivers.

I find maintaining a still, calm, reflective heart is as much of a challenge as photographing mirror-like reflections. I think I reflect my best self, the self that is most connected both to the world around me and to God, in those moments. Sometimes they are literally moments, heartbeats and breaths in the midst of a busier, fast-paced day.

This reflection is precious to me since Pete and I were riding on a jet boat tour of the Colorado River. Most of the ride created a wake that rippled the water into waves and distorted reflections. At certain river bends, my view ahead gave brief moments of stillness. This is one of those.

This particular reflection taught me that even an inch of rainwater can act as a mirror, if the angle and light are right. Bodie Island Light, 2006, after a winter rain. I'd gone to search for egrets but the rainwater puddles provided the best view of the day. My larger lesson here is that sometimes calm comes as a gift even when I am focused anywhere but.

Sometimes wind can be an advantage, inviting the viewer into a fantasy world instead of mirroring reality. I created When Trees Dream in December, 2007 on the north end of Roanoke Island. Sometimes I use my meditative moments to imagine beauty and find gratitude even in the midst of life's storms.

Finally, here is one of the images I shared with our photo group last night: a group of Northern Shovelers resting on a rare windless, cold winter morning at Pea Island in January 2015. I find that my spirit as well as my eye rests in reflecting imagery and the sense of quiet such photographs imply.