Searching for a particular picture last week, I noticed a pattern in my photos: horizon shots. Loads and loads of them. The sky, usually blue, the horizon, winding.
I could never live in the woods or the mountains – one word: claustrophobic. As a prairie girl, the horizon is grounding to me. Only see up? Not a chance. I need to see out.
Getting out of the city and rolling through hills, farms and fields … cathartic. So, when life piles up on me, I go. Tunes, coffee, road trip, gone.
Lake Diefenbaker, lake of my childhood
Deck view from Crosswinds in Whitehall, MI … ahh
Lake Huron .. from inside my car, way too cold to stand outside!
Stevie the dog and the road to home. An Emjayandthem (C) photo
Just had to stop here and take in the view, Pure Michigan
Loved riding around with Dad on farm land like this. And Emjayandthem (C) photo
“Why does every road eventually narrow into a point at the horizon? Because that’s where the point lies.” ― Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration
Is there a pattern in the photos you’ve taken? What is it?
