As a photographer, I am a locavore. I take pictures of things close to where I live and work. Often they are of the same things—a lake, a pond, a small wood, a stand of trees, a garden, a bowl of apples, a city of herons.
When I began, I thought that by taking pictures of the same things over and over again I could stop time. But of course by recording its passage I had merely becomes its agent.
Yet the more I take pictures of these places and things, the more I am bound to them. They have taken up residence in my mind and imagination in ways that I can’t fathom.
There is a line in A. R. Ammons’ poem, Cascadilla Falls: “oh I don’t know where I am going that I can live my life by this single creek.” I don’t know either. But by taking pictures, I endeavor to find out.