Photography is like any other aspect of our lives. It is part of the flow. It is a relationship and as with any other relationship, the focus must be on giving. It is the fountainhead of all creativity.

When I stand before a cloud forming magnificent patterns I feel as if a flow of energy is being poured through me. It is as if some great power is washing away the dirt and grime of the day; it's worries and concerns and replacing them, if only for a moment, with thoughts and emotions that are as pure and simple. Suddenly and without warning, I have experienced my anxiety give way to beauty and in that beauty resides a peace that I have not previously learned to find. It is in these moments I feel blessed by what I have been offered.

When I receive a gift of such proportion, it is only natural to share it. It isn't meant for me alone. It is meant for everyone. While some may think it's work to get up with the sun and return and remain outside until it sets, it really isn't. It begins and ends the day with a ritual of love.

Perhaps it isn't a sunset. A couple of morning s ago, I visited Sawhill Ponds with a friend and witnessed an annual spring event as the yellow, fuzzy goslings swam in neat lines between their parents. Though I've witnessed this event for the last few years, I never fail to fall in love with the babies each spring. I am amazed at how much they learn in those first days.

As I walked along the edge of the ponds, a family with 13 babies was scrambling up the embankment for a feast on small insects in the short yellow wild flowers that were rich and abundant after a few das of wet, snowy weather. All the babies were busy at work eating under the watchful eye of the parents. Then, suddenly one of the babies just sat down. For a moment he closed his eyes. Then another flopped on the ground beside him and then another and soon four of the yellow fluff balls were snoozing in the warm morning sun. I couldn't help but fall in love with the baby. Then, without warning, they popped up and began their feeding frenzy again.

That morning we stayed out and watched the families for almost three hours. Tired and hungry ourselves, we reluctantly went back to the car. My pocket was full of film that I'd spent in an attempt to capture what these delicate creatures are like. In their presence I was reminded of how small and simple life can be. I also know that many of the thirteen will not grow to adulthood, but for that moment, I could almost feel what I thought it might be like to be a child again.

In the wildlife I see in calendars and books, I see that same sense of connection expressed in the eyes of the animals. I feel the love and affection the photographer felt as he or she snuggled in close and clicked away hoping, just hoping to have captured a reminder of that moment. In those moments, I feel I have received more than I could ever return.

It isn't the photographs I want to capture or that give me the energy to get up when I'm tired. And then again, it is. It begins with the excitement I feel about receiving, each morning, a unique and special gift. It's a gift that is replenished each time I go out. It is that I wish to give away

The process is both altruistic and selfish. The feeling of giving joy always seems to provide as much or more to the giver. From the energy I receive by giving, I receive back a jolt of new and different energy so powerful it drives me on to the next moment of exploration and discovery and to me, that's what photography is.

It's a journey into the unknown and while the unknown consists of things that I may have seen thousands of times, through the lens; I discover aspects of them I've never recognized. At Sawhill Ponds, there are hundreds of Canada Geese. To my inexperienced eyes of three years ago, they all looked the same. More than that, there were so many of them that they had become a pest to many in our community.

Then one day, an experience changed my mind. As I walked slowly toward a family of geese traversing from one pond to another, a two week old gosling suddenly fell over as if stricken by something. As I came closer, I noticed his foot was caught in something. He was on the other side of a fence and I had to make a long walk back and around to get to him. Meanwhile he struggled while the family watched helplessly.

As I approached, the family backed off and left the baby to its fate. As knelt down I noticed the left web was caught in something. I quieted the struggling gosling by softly putting my cupped hand around him and examining his foot while I held it with my other hand. A discarded fishhook had torn a hole in his web. Carefully, I released the baby from the unwitting trap. The hole had become large and worried for his safety. Nature is always full of miracles. As soon as I released him, the baby popped up and ran toward his family who had given up and were almost down to the water's edge. As if nothing had ever happened, together, they swam in formation into the middle of the pond.

As I knelt there, I was overcome by a sense of connection with the baby goose. I could feel his own vulnerability in myself and from that point on, I knew what my work as a photographer, as a human being was.

There are too many Canada Geese. They will destroy the environment that supports. It didn't uses to be this way. Man has destroyed all but islands of sanctuary. We have killed off the predators that are so necessary to maintain balance. We have altered the balance. While it make appear that killing off a few thousand geese will solve the problem, another level of life will then grow out of control.

The more I am out in nature, the more connected I feel to the land and the animals of which we are one. The more I am aware of how all of this life must be loved, respected and protected. Without it, I think we will all eventually pay a very high price.

If I take this experience and share it with others, I come back to the camera full of new energy. In spite of the sadness I feel, I feel something stronger and deeper.

It doesn't mean I have to show the world my images or convince everyone I encounter to love nature instead, to walk instead of driving. Rather, it's what happens in everyday life that completes the circle. I find when I accept this offering of love and realize it fully; it is as if my batteries are recharged. If I express this sense of my connection to the world around me, I can do my little bit to teach what I have learned and in doing so, learn it even more deeply.

No, I don't think I'm going to save the world or change the mind of anyone who thinks the natural world is of no importance. Maybe, just maybe I'll remind someone of something they think they've lost and how important it is to find it again.