White Tree, Winter

Steve gave me my first few lessons in photography,
      sitting on a living room floor.
Over time we moved from acquaintanceship to friendship,
      and then to deep friendship.
Now he and I have gone photographing together for over twenty years.
Steve is one of the gentlest people I know.
He has retained a childlike fascination with seeing, with color, with creation.
“Let’s drive into Michigan for a couple of days just to see what’s there,” I said.
“I’m ready,” he replied.
That cold January Friday found us near Manistee,
      where we stopped beside a stream with a deep woods nestled behind it.
The snow was fresh and light.
Steve started in one direction, I in another.
We didn’t say when we’d meet up, as we never do.
But we wandered back to the car at about the same time, as we always do.
“There was one place,” he said, “where it was like photographing
      white on white.”
“I know,” I said.
We had exposed the same image.
This one.