Woods, Maysville Road

One morning I was driving to my office in downtown Fort Wayne
      when, at an intersection, I saw this scene through my windshield.
I hadn’t planned to be a photographer that day,
      but my camera was in the car
            and I did have a fairly open appointment book.
So I stopped.
I walked up and down the road, searching for the right place to photograph.
It wasn’t there.
So I had no choice but to walk toward that grove of trees
      through the field in front of me.
The vegetation was heavy with dew,
      so moisture quickly coated my wingtips, my socks, my trousers.
Cockleburs grabbed onto my camera bag, my shirt, my tie.
The fog persisted, as did the rays of the sun, as did I.
By the time the fog went slinking off, I was out of film.
I completed my journey downtown and took my place behind my desk,
      mementos of this scene clinging to my clothing,
            reminding me of the joy I had experienced.
This image, and the message I take from it, continue to bring me quiet joy
      many years later.