Chaotic. Confusing. Overwhelming. It takes time to become tree like. To revel in the purposeful winding of branches towards the light. To find shape amongst the twisted roots. To seek compositions that exclude the glaring sky. Time to let the eyes go slack. Time to accept the lack of order. Time I did not have
Patchy, bright white and melting snow did not help. I found myself attempting to exclude it. To focus on branches. But photographs of only the lichen were not what I wanted. Too obvious. To to…there.
I wanted the trees to be part of the image. I did not want it to become a tree portrait. I wanted a flavour. In the end, overwhelmed. Two frames exposed.
Back in the car I pushed on to Sunart. More woods. More terrifying mind bending compositions ahead. This day was failing. One hour of light left. I was failing. A place you could spend days in. So much to see. Too much. I clambered over broken trunks. Storm blasted fallen giants. Man made culling. My boots crunched down into layers of rotting matter up to my thighs. I felt like I swimming in a log pile.