We have reached our last appointment of the year 2021 with "Photographic stories". It was a year full of wonderful stories and contents and to embellish the month of December is the photographer Nick Becker. Nick is a very creative American photographer with a splendid portfolio of landscape images where the wonderful creations of mother nature are represented with impeccable compositions, from the grand landscape to the most intimate scenes. Nick's story is the essence of this column, where there is no need for super trips to famous locations to express one's creativity.
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Thank you, Antonio, for the opportunity to share some of my work with your readers. The image I selected for you comes not from a distant, exotic location, but from a small county park just 10 minutes from my home.
The January morning on which I made this image began like any other. The alarm on my phone went off and I groggily reached over to silence it. As is custom before starting my work day, I checked the weather in one final moment of procrastination. My tired eyes lit up with excitement when I saw a local fog advisory.
I hopped out of bed and quickly gathered my gear, hoping to make the most of the atmospheric conditions. I knew the general area I wanted to explore: a local park that my wife and I frequent for after-work strolls with our dogs. It is nearby, familiar, and home to a variety of old hardwood trees that I have admired since my first visit.
The character of those stately trees was only accentuated by the dense fog. They loomed like ancient mythical creatures as I encroached on their territory, gnarled limbs reaching out toward me through the mist. Dendritic structure morphed into sentient gestures. They bowed, beckoned, enticed, threatened, recoiled, endured. Some leaned submissively toward their neighbors. Others stood tall and proud.
I made several images that morning, but the one I chose to share today happens to have been made in my favorite grove in my park, a relatively small but open area where tall oak trees punctuate gentle hills. Without a tripod, I was mobile and unencumbered as I slowly wandered through this area, free to follow my eyes and my imagination. As I often find myself doing, I was relying heavily on instinct and composing based on little more than how the scene before me made me feel. In this panoramic composition, I aimed to highlight the balance and uniformity of the darker, nearer tree trunks, while simultaneously anchoring the image with a more diminutive oak tree that had an expressive lean to it.
Seeing this image always takes me back to that silent, solitary morning in the mist when, for just a moment, time disappeared as I lost myself in the meditative experience of raw, creative exploration.