“We take pictures as a return ticket to a moment otherwise gone.” ~Unknown
People ask me how I got into photography. I’ve always loved the same things as the next person… the pretty, scenic overlooks, rugged mountains, showy morning and evening skies… but when I moved to Havre a few years back, I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. I couldn’t see definition or change in landscapes or find beauty in the old, brown wheat rows. I had to look for it, and you know how it goes when you look too hard for what you think is the right thing, you miss something even better?
I’ve had that moment a lot in photography. One night, as I was out driving hoping to catch a sunset, I came across this old, white horse. Honestly, he was homely, scarred, pink skin around the eyes and nose, dirty and nothing spectacular. And just as I was about to speed on by, he turned in the setting sun, and he came to life in the light. And something spoke to me. Like once he was proud. Like once he was young. Like once he was loved. And I slammed on the brakes, jumped out of the truck and proceeded to take about 50 pictures of him. It was sort of an amateur photographer’s glory moment.
Whether or not the pictures were amazing, or the content was right, or the lighting and processing was good, became irrelevant. I remember this moment teaching me a lesson: slow down and look a little closer. I was missing a lot of beauty looking for the grandiose.
I still pull over for pictures. Sunrises. Sunsets. Horses in a meadow. A child smiling. Reflective water. I’ve taken thousands of pictures over the last few years. And I’ve learned a lot about myself looking back on the moments since I picked up a camera.
I’ve shared in some beautiful moments being behind the lens. I’ve seen beautiful smiles of people that love one another. I’ve scenic places that take my breath away. I’ve seen my children grow. I found new love behind the lens. I found focus. Simple as that.
That’s what I’ve grown to love about photography, and it’s my hope to continue to share these pictures I take care with all of you as a return ticket to a moment that would’ve otherwise been gone.