PK and I went deep into the mountains this past weekend, in search of new-to-us trails to high peaks, and for a chance to enjoy some isolation, surrounded by wildflowers and the sounds of running water. One of the beautiful things about the mountains this time of year is that the higher you go, the more it seems as though you have travelled back in time to an earlier spring. The trout lilies that were long dried up at the trail head were just about to bloom at the tent site. Trillium and violets were sprinkled across the higher hillsides, and near the summits the leaves were just barely unfurling from their buds.
When you hike with a photographer, the trip takes a lot longer, but you find yourself noticing the smallest details. Squint your eyes and look at a tree, and notice the spaces between the leaves. Watch a flower in the sunlight and then again in shadow, and see the changes in the way the light glints off tiny hairs on the stem. All the parts add up to make the whole, though each is a poem all on its own.
Photo by SFD
When you hike with a dog, some of that unrestrained exuberance is bound to rub off...