When I am in the presence of the robin, I simply am. Without the ‘I’. That’s it. That’s enough. Although we are so obviously very dissimilar, there is this notion that ultimately we are of the same. Only expressed differently. Home is same. I see the blue marble without borders or countries when I look into its dark eyes. I sense the unfathomable mystery behind our very existence. And that truly is home.
I’ve never been able to capture my friend the winged one in flight, however I still enjoy the feeling of this photograph, from one of the first days it flew towards me, leaving the safe shelter of the bush and branches and landed on my camera.
If there’s one thing I’ve rarely been attracted to photographing, it is flowers. With the exception of sunflowers. And dandelions at their last grasp of the familiar world, the only world they have known, before the winds pull the seeds from their place of origin and carry them to unknown
I am looking at this beautiful natural balancing act that played out in front of me one day in late June. I am grateful I can look at it again and then again this crispy cold October day…
So this is how you clean your feathers and bath in the rays of the early summer’s sun. I hadn’t known this friendly winged one for long before it displayed the utmost trust by making itself entirely vulnerable in my presence by splaying itself on the ground like this, trusting