“I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche
As I was reviewing my photos from the past few weeks, I kept glancing at this one, which at first seemed a bit dark for me. When I opened the thumbnail and looked closer it brought me back to the moment when I made the photo and I recalled why I made it.
I was sitting on a rock above a large beaver pond in the late afternoon. The dense spruce and hemlock forest was dark and damp, green with moss, and a bit foreboding feeling. Yet, through the dark canopy, a narrow opening allowed a patch of bright sunlight through. Just enough light to reveal the multitude of colour present in the dark place. Some trees glow green with mosses and lichen, while others, a soft brown. There are others which remain quite dark and gray, yet above, even the canopy has a soft green brightness to it.
So, despite what appears to be darkness, there is light, if we are observant and take the time to look.
How often have we experienced this darkness in our lives, the narrow sphere we feel we are in? Yet, just on the periphery, bright lives continue, children laugh, people love, and the world, even on rainy days, sits in wait of sunlight, which inevitably comes.
So, look deeply into this scene, which appears dark and somewhat sinister and see all the light in the details. Is this a forest you would walk joyfully into, even being aware of the subtle brightness? What lies beyond that line trees? There was more life beyond this veil of darkness. In fact, a beautiful grove of majestic oaks awaited me, just over the next rise. Sometimes you have to risk it and break through to the next layer, encouraged by the hints of light we are all given. Though not Nietzsche’s banks of roses, it was wonderful, nonetheless.
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 70 mm
1/4 sec, f/16.0, ISO 400