Misty Mountain Mornings

Foggy mornings have a way of quieting everything down. The world feels softer, like it’s been washed clean overnight. Walking out there alone, you get a real sense of being still. No distractions, just the cool air and the slow reveal of the land through the mist. It clears my mind and makes me feel connected in a very unique way.

Fog moves slow and steady, never rushing, never loud. Watching it roll in teaches patience. You can’t force it or hurry what’s natural. Sometimes the best thing you can do is wait and let things unfold on their own. It’s a reminder that some moments take time, and that slowing down can show you things you’d miss if you moved too fast.

Through the Grass

You spot them before they spot you. Just barely - antlers above the grass, moving slow. The wind’s in your favor, and you stay low. No rush. Most animals don’t move fast unless they have to.

Tall grass makes it tricky. Focus is tough, but it’s worth it. I catch bits and pieces. An ear, a shoulder, that heavy breath hanging in the air. No clear shot, but real life rarely lines up perfect.

I stay quiet, finger on the shutter, waiting. One of them turns just enough. That’s the moment. Click. No filters, no setups. Just patience, wisdom, and being where you’re supposed to be.

The Airport

Not many places let someone walk a runway. Out here, no one’s stopping me. Planes are done flying for the day, and the wind’s calmed down. The pavement’s still warm from the sun.

I can see a long way from the centerline. Hangars behind me, fields on both sides, and that wide open sky is starting to turn orange. A couple birds cutting across. Maybe a rabbit bolts from the edge. Nothing fancy, just how it is.

There’s something about standing where planes take off. It’s quiet now, but I can still feel the movement. People came and went. Some just joyrides. Some going somewhere. Makes you think, in a good way.

Not much traffic, no noise, just me, my camera and the runway. That’s more than enough.