The Image Maker

"The sun reflected brightly on the tree limbs that had been covered by ice during the overnight storm. A soft layer of snow covered the ground and a few birds that had gathered in this winter wonderland looked anxiously for food. There seemed to be some kind of dance taking place as the ice crystals and light snow flew across the landscape as if some magical force was drawing them deeper and deeper into the background. From where I stood I could see a hawk fly silently through the air above and a rabbit scurry along the ground. Another of life's great dramas waiting to be played out as nature creates it's own story of life and death. The sun rose higher in the sky, and gradually changed the shadows that stretched sleepily along the ground. The trees bent graciously from the added weight of the storm and the roof of the old barn reflected the suns light. The cold air, fell silently upon me, covering me like a blanket. I felt a soft wind blow as if from the whisper of God himself, and small band of clouds, white as the snow on the ground, hung lightly in the deep blue sky overhead, placed there effortlessly by some great hand. Man in all his wisdom and technology could never create something so wonderful as this. I was indeed witnessing an image of life created just for my enjoyment.

The splendor that I witnessed was awe inspiring. I felt as if I had been transformed into a part of the scene. It was as if the entire world was at peace and I was witnessing the beginning of the new era. Perhaps for me I was. I felt a peace that can only be experienced when you commit yourself to the power of nature, when you decide to become a part of nature not a master of nature. I was here at this moment, all alone, nothing around me, no voices, no traffic, no questions to be answered. My own life seemed insignificant, and I knew that if I was not here, at this particular moment in time, this scene would be played out to an empty theater, void of witness, lacking in appreciation. But I was here, enjoying what could only be described as a wonderful show of nature. I felt a rush of apprehension come over me. What could be next, what could possibly top this display of supreme creativity. I could only wish that I could meet the artist of this exquisite panorama. I looked through the viewfinder of my camera, anxious to capture this creation of light and pattern for others to enjoy.

As the camera worked it's own magic, and the chemistry of film and light interacted to record the scene, I was glad to have the ability and talent to share with others the beauty of the great artist. It was at this point that I received a self proclaimed revelation. For years I had considered myself as a great artist. A manipulator of light and shadow, a creator, if you will, of great images and stories. I am none of these things. I am simply an instrument of a higher power, a copier of the views and images provided by God himself. This in no way diminishes the importance of my art, it is only a discovery of my true place in life. I am happy to have the talent to record the images that are provided to me, to write the stories of the lives of other people. I do not create these lives or images, I simply share them. How vain I had become, how self important and greedy for the praise that did not belong to me. I am a photographer, not by my own will, but by the grace of God."

by Michael

All poems and stories written and copyrighted by Michael Timmons