Last week I was supposed to be in New Brunswick, Canada, for a week-long photography workshop with Freeman Patterson and Andre´ Gallant at Shamper’s Bluff, an ecological reserve that Freeman donated to the Nature Conservancy of Canada. I had applied for the sought-after workshop back in December and was thrilled when I got in.
When my silent meditation retreat in Barre, Massachusetts, was cancelled in April due to covid-19, I took it in stride. I could find other avenues to deepen my mindfulness practice during a global pandemic. I remember thinking, “I’ll be really disappointed, though, if my photography trip is cancelled!”
Covid did not accommodate my plans…
The good news is that I was able to shift my mindset quickly when the photography workshop was officially cancelled (thank you mindfulness practice!). Just because I couldn’t travel to Canada didn’t mean that I had to give up on my intention to devote full attention to photography skill-building for a week.
My workaround was to order and borrow books written by Freeman and Andre´ and lead my own solo photography workshop. Instead of flying to New Brunswick, I drove two hours to Longwood Gardens in the Brandywine Valley of Pennsylvania.
I researched lodging that I felt was taking sufficient safety precautions and was comfortable with a Hilton Garden Suites just ten minutes from Longwood. I brought my own food and was either in my hotel room or outside with my camera for the two nights and three days I spent there — masked even while walking in the gardens, as was everyone else.
To maintain focus on my intention, the only books I brought were by Freeman and Andre´. Their work was exactly what I needed in the moment, as the messages were to stop trying for a particular outcome, lean into inspiration, and “look sideways” at your subjects (meaning let go of your preconceived ideas, approach your subject from different points of view, and just be with whatever arises in that moment with acceptance).
Freeman’s books, in particular, validated my experience of photography being another arm of my mindfulness practice. Rather than being about the “right” settings or equipment, even more important is the photographer’s capacity to be present and pay attention. Photography, more than any other artistic medium, is completely dependent on what’s happening in the present moment.
He gave me permission to not follow rules and not limit myself to one type of photography (a growth area for me). He encouraged me to feel uncomfortable, which parallels other work that is alive for me this year in strengthening my racial resilience.
Putting it into practice…
Usually my lens is pointed down to capture tiny floral or other natural details with my macro lens. This time, with two full days in the gardens to allow myself to simply follow wherever inspiration would lead me, Longwood’s magnificent trees called me to look up, widen my lens, and soak in their ancient wisdom and resilience.
The trees–some of them planted over two hundred years ago–not only offered shade and shelter from the sweltering heat, they also pulled me to my knees in admiration time and time again.
Their healed pruning scars reminded me of my own pruning scars. Their bumps and puckers reminded me of my own body’s secrets under my clothing. And the power of their longevity inspired me to embrace my own aging process and the gifts of resilience.
I’m finding trees are whispering loudly to me this year, showing up in a variety of teaching channels and synchronicities. I’m doing my best to listen.
Here’s a tiny taste of the energy that Longwood’s well-tended and protected trees shared with me. I recommend you watch it in full screen by clicking on the square icon in the lower right corner.
Let me know what you think! I look forward to deepening my tree photography practice as the journey continues.
