An even more radical realization is that most people don’t care about us. Most people don’t even think about us. This is either very bad or very good news, depending on how you interpret it!
Tomasz, I recommend “The Mountains Won’t Remember Us” by Robert Morgan, a celebrated author of the American South. This is one of his early collections of short stories. He is a poet and novelist, as well.
In my opinion, all things around us are outlive us - mountains, oceans and forests will stay tomorrow, but faces, gestures and moments such as sunset will be returned tomorrow, and we with our cameras fix its in the times.
To be more understandable we probably should share our photos. This is clouds under Riga gulf at sunset - this is for ever coming :
Thank you, Charles. I really like how you put that. There’s always movement, yet the mountain holds its quiet presence, unchanged. That contrast is what drew me to make the photo.
Thank you! I love that you mention Áhpi — what a beautiful word and idea. There’s something timeless in focusing on trees, clouds, landscapes… they carry a different kind of presence than people do.
I need both enduring landscapes and fleeting human or animal interaction together To show how we need both to respond to and respect what endures and what does not
Yes, absolutely — I feel the same. The enduring landscapes give us a sense of scale and permanence, while the fleeting gestures of people or animals remind us of the fragile, temporary beauty we live within. Both together create the full picture, and both deserve our attention.
I think about that too sometimes. There's this big lone tree nearby where I live and I sometimes wonder what it all had to endure. But it's still there, resilient as ever.
Also in the mountains you see villages and town expand and change over the years, but the surrounding mountains are still the same.
That image you describe of the lone tree is beautiful in itself — such a powerful witness to time and change. You’re right, the mountains and old trees remind us of endurance, while everything around them shifts. It’s something worth holding onto.
Yes, I think you’re right. Maybe photography is, in a way, our attempt to leave traces of how we saw the world — a legacy not just of images, but of attention.
The uncaring of nature is part of what pulled me to the high Arctic. There is a great comfort in realizing how small we are. Even now, at this challenging time, nature does not care. We are no more important to nature than a squirrel or bacteria. We are as much a part of nature as those things as well. I find the great uncaring an enormous comfort and attraction.
I was raised to understand that we are very insignificant biological, cosmic anomaly existing on a minuscule speck of dust in a galaxy which itself is surrounded by many billions of others. All we can do, in my opinion, is be as caring and respectful to our co-inhabitants and, collectively, try not to screw up our temporary 'home' for the generations to come.
Quiet, powerful, nature’s easel, Art. Mountains are in your face.
Raised in, played on, climbed all over, lived on top of for two summers, thousands of photographs of, learned to fly in, fasted for days on, still live in the shadow of. They have been my constant guides and companions. Mostly they calm me down, my racing mind stops and reflects, a pause, eyes following lines: trees, snow, ridge, sky. They guide my inept attempts at capturing their spirit in my images. I put a pinch of tobacco on the ground and thank the Spirit that is the mountain. When you live with them, distinct personalities gradually appear. They talk slowly,
sleep with them to even begin to hear the first whisper:
“Who are you?
Why are you here?
What do you want?
What is that in your heart that is so heavy?
Give it to me.
Go to my creek, my Viens
Wash off, leave what hurts you here, I can take care of it.
The beauty of your comment is a perfect match for your photograph, and both of them touched my soul. I also prefer to photograph nature especially trees, mountains, and the ocean. I never thought about them not caring about us, however, I can understand your concept. I drive by mountains every day going to work and I ooh, ahh, and shout out a few WOWs!!! They are there day after day in their exalted beauty doing whatever mountains are supposed to do and I am grateful for them for doing that.
That is beautiful. Thank you
Thank you so much for reading and for your kind words. I’m glad it resonated with you.
An even more radical realization is that most people don’t care about us. Most people don’t even think about us. This is either very bad or very good news, depending on how you interpret it!
Tomasz, I recommend “The Mountains Won’t Remember Us” by Robert Morgan, a celebrated author of the American South. This is one of his early collections of short stories. He is a poet and novelist, as well.
I think every photograph is a vanishing moment captured as time passes.
In my opinion, all things around us are outlive us - mountains, oceans and forests will stay tomorrow, but faces, gestures and moments such as sunset will be returned tomorrow, and we with our cameras fix its in the times.
To be more understandable we probably should share our photos. This is clouds under Riga gulf at sunset - this is for ever coming :
https://35photo.pro/photos_main/2509/12548855.jpg
Or this for ever Moon rise:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/etFbs9zKc43urbFq7
That's a nice photo. Everywhere something is happening. And still it's a quiet photo. The mountain undisturbed.
Thank you, Charles. I really like how you put that. There’s always movement, yet the mountain holds its quiet presence, unchanged. That contrast is what drew me to make the photo.
Wow, great photo! I prefer to make non-person-photos like Tree, clouds... Yeah scapes that the Sami people call Áhpi.
Thank you! I love that you mention Áhpi — what a beautiful word and idea. There’s something timeless in focusing on trees, clouds, landscapes… they carry a different kind of presence than people do.
I need both enduring landscapes and fleeting human or animal interaction together To show how we need both to respond to and respect what endures and what does not
Yes, absolutely — I feel the same. The enduring landscapes give us a sense of scale and permanence, while the fleeting gestures of people or animals remind us of the fragile, temporary beauty we live within. Both together create the full picture, and both deserve our attention.
I think about that too sometimes. There's this big lone tree nearby where I live and I sometimes wonder what it all had to endure. But it's still there, resilient as ever.
Also in the mountains you see villages and town expand and change over the years, but the surrounding mountains are still the same.
That image you describe of the lone tree is beautiful in itself — such a powerful witness to time and change. You’re right, the mountains and old trees remind us of endurance, while everything around them shifts. It’s something worth holding onto.
Yes indeed! Thanks for the reminder :-)
I think most photographers want to leave a legacy.
Yes, I think you’re right. Maybe photography is, in a way, our attempt to leave traces of how we saw the world — a legacy not just of images, but of attention.
The uncaring of nature is part of what pulled me to the high Arctic. There is a great comfort in realizing how small we are. Even now, at this challenging time, nature does not care. We are no more important to nature than a squirrel or bacteria. We are as much a part of nature as those things as well. I find the great uncaring an enormous comfort and attraction.
I was raised to understand that we are very insignificant biological, cosmic anomaly existing on a minuscule speck of dust in a galaxy which itself is surrounded by many billions of others. All we can do, in my opinion, is be as caring and respectful to our co-inhabitants and, collectively, try not to screw up our temporary 'home' for the generations to come.
Wise words we should all remember.
Quiet, powerful, nature’s easel, Art. Mountains are in your face.
Raised in, played on, climbed all over, lived on top of for two summers, thousands of photographs of, learned to fly in, fasted for days on, still live in the shadow of. They have been my constant guides and companions. Mostly they calm me down, my racing mind stops and reflects, a pause, eyes following lines: trees, snow, ridge, sky. They guide my inept attempts at capturing their spirit in my images. I put a pinch of tobacco on the ground and thank the Spirit that is the mountain. When you live with them, distinct personalities gradually appear. They talk slowly,
sleep with them to even begin to hear the first whisper:
“Who are you?
Why are you here?
What do you want?
What is that in your heart that is so heavy?
Give it to me.
Go to my creek, my Viens
Wash off, leave what hurts you here, I can take care of it.
Sleep, sleep
A day in Banff Alberta earlier this year.
https://www.flickr.com/gp/balcaen/6046E8z752
I will try and leave a photograph.
To answer your two questions: in a word, yes.
The beauty of your comment is a perfect match for your photograph, and both of them touched my soul. I also prefer to photograph nature especially trees, mountains, and the ocean. I never thought about them not caring about us, however, I can understand your concept. I drive by mountains every day going to work and I ooh, ahh, and shout out a few WOWs!!! They are there day after day in their exalted beauty doing whatever mountains are supposed to do and I am grateful for them for doing that.