Finding Beauty

“How had I never seen this before?”

After a full day of video editing, I took my dog Fern for an afternoon walk, and suddenly, this pathway that I walk her on every day was alive in a new way for me.

Photo walks with my 35mm camera have typically been a part of my life, but since I moved to Powhatan Land and have been living with my dog full time, I haven't taken my camera on our walks together. With my film camera, I need to take time, and when I'm walking Fern, she's enchanted by scents and often moves us toward them—not the best for holding a composition steady.

I recently bought a paper cam, a digital camera that mimics the mystery and feeling of a disposable camera. You can't see the images until you transfer them from the SD card. You don’t even have the option of being precise. With this "digital disposable" camera, the stakes were low enough for me to snap away without fear of her messing up the frame.

Now, previously unseen pockets of beauty revealed themselves. I saw a bird's nest nestled on the fence, cactus blooms, thorned silhouettes, and a flower juxtaposed against the canvas of the grey bridge.

I began moving differently, looking differently. Pockets of light, detail, and texture called me toward them. The mundane held the promise of the sacred. What beauty might I behold if only I were to look *just there* with keen attention? What stunning combination of shape and light might I never notice because I never bent down, leaned in, or turned around?

What I love about beauty is that it is often hidden in plain sight. It is ephemeral; a delightful patch of light may disappear with a cloud’s passing. It requires beholding. It often requires a shift in perspective, a leaning into what was always there but never seen or considered. It’s a conversation with the divine.

What an honor to be a witness to beauty.