Beneath the mammoths dwell the mortals, campers and mule deer both. In the frame above, echos of images I would capture years later in Yosemite.
It is with no small amount of sadness that I pen this last post about Prairie Creek Redwood State Park. In retrospect it was this late summer trip that reset my photography and recentered my focus upon amateur-first, image-first thinking. I had just read Galen Rowell's Inner Game of Outdoor Photography (and just today recommended this book to a friend) and was eager to ditch the HDR approach I had taken for the previous three years in favor of something more subtle and authentic.
Processing was to become secondary to content. And the content that transformed me I found in the forests and the mountains and the oceans of California—the first of these being Prairie Creek. Many adventures await within this retrospective, many new images. All of me hopes to revisit NorCal before those posts are written, but part of me knows that may not come to pass.
So with these few images from a morning long past, spent walking amongst splendid redwood meadows, I expell at long last the juniper air of that voyage until again I can draw it forth from under the shadows of the giants.