Maybe I can be one of those photographers who shoot old rusty crap. I can even start a sub-genre, old-rusty-crap-in-the-forest.

“I know he’d be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly.”   Yeah.  Whatever, John Denver. I may never be a poor man, but with this photo, I’m barely making middle class.

It was only after I decided to quit tromping around the snow, sat down, and wondered why I suck so much at photography, that these deer walked across my path and united in a perfect formation, their heads like right triangles.  The formation lasted for less than five seconds and then they dispersed.

When I’m walking in the woods and somebody in the group spots a critter and says, “Look, a deer” or “Is that an eagle?”  I’m always the guy saying “Where?” And then.  “Where??” And then a minute later. “I still can’t see it.”