This was new territory for me.  I was on a dirt road and had crossed the point where I usually turned back.  I had a confluence of luxuries: time, isolation, and ideal photographic conditions.  To call it a “dirt” road would be generous; I was happy to find dirt from time to time as most of the road was jagged rocks which had to be navigated carefully.  The road traced the edge of a ravine, following a small river.  Progress was delightfully slow.  Every so often, there was a gap in the trees which revealed the other side of the ravine.  Shaded by clouds, the steep hillside was nearly perpendicular to my line of sight, affording me simultaneous low and high angle views of tall evergreens standing guard around patches of deciduous orange and yellow.

 

There was no solo; instead, a choir of thousands of synergistic components, ranging from baritone to coloratura, created a slow progression of harmonious chords.  I felt as if I could have aimed almost anywhere on that hillside and created a photograph that would have emoted the same theme.  So numerous were my choices that I had difficulty both composing with the camera and cropping on the computer.  It was an immersive experience.