Joanna had sheep-to-shawl practice yesterday so we were off to Northumberland county for the afternoon. The team was prepared to complete a shawl at competition pace in just over two hours so I had some time to explore the surrounding country. The weather was grim save a very few brief glimpses of sun. I have mentioned, in other recent posts, that we have had a bit of early season snow. Although we had more on the ground at home than there was in Turbotville, the local township trucks had been busy and the roads were generally clear. I was traveling west when the isolated trees and shed below caught my eye. I stopped, backed up, and parked. I knew from a few brief forays into obliging cornfields that the snow was not deep, even for the 6″ top boots I was wearing. I switched on the hazards, got out of the car and closed the door; the D600 was on a strap around my neck. I turned to my left to cross the road … my eyes were set on the field as I transitioned from the hardtop to the shoulder. My mind imagined the picture I would take. What focal length would I use? Where should I position myself? Should I kneel? I was formulating answers to all of these questions as I moved off the shoulder and into the field. All of a sudden the earth heaved violently upward. Had there been a seismic event? Was I being swallowed by a gigantic sinkhole which had opened beneath me? Without concern for myself and in a flash of parental instinct I grabbed for the D600 and thrust it skyward. Thankfully my descent stopped abruptly as the level of the show hit just below my waist – I had been swallowed by the roadside ditch which was filled with recently plowed snow. How was I to know that the transition to the field wasn’t flat? After a furtive glance to see that no one had observed my embarrassment I brushed myself off and proceeded to compose the picture I had firmly established in my mind. I hope you like it.


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