As a photographer, I have found it hard to delete my pictures! Even the ones that don’t turn out so well. Each of those pictures represent a memory. And when you are outside, the light changes quickly and each picture is unique.
This brings to mind an experience I had in Door County a few summers ago. My husband and I went to the east side, which we had not explored before. Our hotel was close to a woodcarver’s shop. The town was very small, so his shop was pretty noticeable, especially since it was closed and had a sign: “Gone sailing!” I laughed at the sign, and I could already tell the owner was a free spirit, somebody I wanted to meet.
We peered through the window, looked at his carvings and hoped that he would be open sometime during our vacation. The next day he was in the shop. We were the only ones in the store, so he gave us a complete tour, and answered any questions we had. He told us what each piece represented to him, and what his life was like in Door County. He was very outspoken and quirky! Something I find totally refreshing He wasn’t trying to sell us anything, just enjoyed our company and our conversation. We found out that he taught classes on wood carving and he insisted that he could teach us how to create pieces just as good as his own! I laughed to myself that he would even thing such a thing. But I could imagine that this attitude would be wonderful in a classroom! He had such confidence in his students before even seeing what they could do.
We ended up buying a few pieces from him. He found out I was also an artist, so before we left, he told us about a very special spot where I could get wonderful pictures. But he cautioned us not to tell anyone else about it. Apparently it was pristine wilderness, and not too many people knew about it, so he wanted to keep it that way.
That evening, we decided to see what this special spot looked like when the sun was setting. We had to drive about half a mile on a small dirt road. Once we got out of the car, black flies attacked us viciously! So we started to run as fast as we could, hoping to get away from them. We finally got to a clearing, and saw water, rocks, and a little log cabin. The flies were gone, so we could walk around leisurely. The water was slowly lapping up against the shore. It was just so peaceful to be there. The sun was starting to set so we walked out onto the rocks and took many pictures. I just enjoyed the feeling of being out in the middle of nowhere! Just the two of us.
When the sun was finally gone, we knew we had to find our way back to the car in the dark! Not a good thing when you’re in a new place, but we managed it somehow. Whenever I look at the pictures from that evening, I feel a mystical union with the sun, the rocks and the water. And I am so thankful that this place still exists in our commercial and hurried world.