Common Nature

Forsythia in particular is nondescript for fifty weeks of the year—and then explodes into an exuberant golden firework; I’m moderately surprised that it isn’t up there with the flowering cherry as an emblem of the poignant beauty of transience.

And your woodland shots, with the shadowy receding columns of spruces and the gnarled complexity of the oak against the delicate lattices of underbrush, have the air of frontispieces to a fairytale.

Wishing you many years of fun with your new tool!