A deep connection with the outdoors

From the time she was born she's needed to be outside. 

Everyday. 

Rain or shine, it doesn't matter.



 
Any excuse, just let her be outdoors.

She gets lost in nature.  Plants, birds, butterflies

One for the road... Do you play?

As a kid I remember playing games on long car rides with my younger brother.  The alphabet game with road signs. Spell your name with the letters on the license plates of cars we passed. Count the number of cars of a particular color...  Whatever kept us from fighting as we sat for hours upon hours in the car long before there were portable DVD players or hand-held video games.

© Photographer: Cheryle Myers | Agency: Dreamstime.com

Over the mountains and through the woods we'd drive.  But it didn't matter if it was to Grandmother's house or to the beach that we were headed, our favorite road game was always Slug Bug.

© Photographer: Cheryle Myers | Agency: Dreamstime.com

You know the game... If you're the first to see a VW bug, you yell out the color and get to"slug" the other person.  That was half the fun, getting to punch your sibling.

© Photographer: Cheryle Myers | Agency: Dreamstime.com

But now, times have changed.  Kids have changed. And so have the games.  Now they call them "punch buggy's" and don't even punch each other.  "Punch Buggy Red!" They yell.  There's no winner, no loser, and no bruises.  Where's the fun in that?

© Photographer: Matthew Bamberg | Agency: Dreamstime.com

I think I prefer the red, black and blue, in an old fashioned game of Slug Bug.  What do you play on the road?

I did it...

I stayed home.  I passed up a change to take pictures. Winter pictures of my girls sledding and playing in the snow. A drive to the mountains and a day in the cold.

Nothing.  No winter wonderland photos. No sledding.  No funny crash scenes, cold noses or sun shining through the trees.

Nothing. A break from everything and a quiet house.  Some time to work on some writing and relax.

But, even as I try to enjoy the solitude I keep thinking that I'm missing out.  Not on the cold fingers, or numb toes or wet clothes of course.  Missing out on the squeals of delight, the screams of excited kids and the opportunity to freeze those memories forever.

A winter day at the beach