I was out in southern Wisconsin the other day and while taking the road less traveled from A to B saw this piece of the spring flood. I love water and I love sky.
I saw this the other day when I was out in the rain (again). I think this is a place I’ll need to return to.
I went to Dubuque this weekend the slow way, on the back roads through the driftless region of southwestern Wisconsin. Spring is crawling into the hollows and the osier are pinking. It made me feel a little like Elliot Porter to be confronted with softness of the color and the density of the woods.
It was good to be out in the spring drizzle that couldn’t decide whether it was drizzle, sleet or snow and seemed to change it’s mind every other moment.
Today is one of those dark days that must come for spring to start. You know the kind, dark, with lots of rain and the rumble of thunder. Warm but not warm enough with little piles of dirty snow being melted down by the pelting rain. Almost twilight dark at noon and you wonder if the sun will shine again. Then you look out the window and realize the grass is greening in spots and the wet dark branches carry buds.
Back in Chicago, shooting this time and from a room with a view.