Perhaps it’s a windblown bird lighting on a stony ledge, the color of the late afternoon sun pouring amber like honey on a rose, ice floes on the river, apple blossoms splayed by moonlight,  the red and gold of autumn reflected in the lake, sunbeams cutting thickets in a shady grove, or perhaps it is a city landscape coming alive--the streets and cars covered with snow, or old folks and young lovers on park benches, the lonely ones, those with hungry eyes, the one with her entire fortune in a shopping bag, billboards beckoning false promises.  It takes a second (or is it months of preparation for a single shot) to see the subject, consider the slant of light, the contrast, the blend and clash of color, the impact of motion. With a tap of the shutter button the camera clicks as if to acknowledge all the mental and physical preparations of the shoot, from the work of a favorite 19th century poet to a technical manual read that morning. The image, now coded on a card in the camera, is ready for editing on computer software and for printing.  Next are infinite choices about color, focus  texture, composition, light.  This may be a good day to experiment with different papers for a flat matted appearance, a glossy shine, or a metallic glimmer--testing the way each one works. I am obsessed with the details, determined to understand.