I was outside looking for something picturesque. The air was brisk, but I kept treading, determined. The naked trees and crispy leaves shied away from my Sony Cybershot camera’s lense, too cliche for my own sense of creativity. I dragged my feet a few yards through the dying grass and scattered gravel to stop and stare, but stumbled upon nothing amazing. A full cob of crunchy, yellow, field corn lay abandoned on the cracked concrete porch, left alone to rot by a couple of nowhere-to-be-found hay bales.
I felt like I was walking in circles while trying to come across a diamond in the rough, because I only found more of the same. The weeks left of autumn and new winter aren’t my favorite snapshot season. I’ve run out of beautiful things, I thought to myself. Summer’s color bled out and vanished underneath the mudded ground, up into the Heavenly sky, and all that was left was the uninviting vacancy, dull and bleak.
Contrary to my original belief, my new notion was soon to be unveiled, like a butterfly inching out of its cocoon for the very first time. Most photographers search the world far and wide for a pretty picture, but I believe anything that earth created is beautiful, even in locality. I was so used to the unchanged scenery, I had never taken the time out to appreciate the beauty of these Pennsylvania mountains, and landscapes; I had taken this wonderful scenery for granted. I now look at the earth with a positive outlook.
I continued my excursion around the house only to find what I had rejected previous to my awakening. Before I knew it, my internal memory was full of beautiful images I found from the simple world in which I am cradled. The smallest things can carry so much meaning. The structure of the earth is similar to what one can find inside of a clam, and that is quite the breathtaking experience.