I spill out of the woods onto the meadow.
I see the way the late afternoon sunlight strikes the raw, brittle plants that rise up from the earth. I bend down, watching the light, and take the photo.
I remember that photographers go after the light. I've never had any other formal training than this: Go after the light.
That's what I want to do every day; I want to go after the Light, even on the coldest and rawest days.
I walk until my fingers protest against the cold. The sun, sinking lower and lower, animates nothing else this afternoon.
But for just that one moment, I saw the light and chased it down.
Don't you just love late afternoon sunlight?