It is all there in that gaze: direct, unblinking, almost a dare. A lesson in seeing was staring me straight in the face and I, almost, missed it.
On these white-on-white days of winter, I often remember that horse. It was Christmas morning more than a few years ago now. I had just gotten a new lens for the holidays and, if you are a photographer you know what that is like. You can’t wait to try it out. I had visions of close-ups with dramatic color and power, the kind that make you say “ahh.” But, it was one of those days -- white sky, white snow, like putting your head inside of a pillowcase.
I went out anyway. The snow seeped in over the tops of my boots, dripped down my neck, wet and cold. I was growing more grumpy by the minute. I came across an open field and spotted something moving across it -- oh great, I thought to my grumpy, wet self: a white horse, in a white field, against a white sky.
But I went over to the fence for a look anyway. The horse spotted me, turned, and walked directly at me, closer and closer, straight up to me, with a look that seemingly dared me to take the photograph. So, I did but with little expectation.
Until I saw it on the back of the camera, all the subtle shades of "white" and the swirling textures, the look of the horse that seemed to say, "see, told you so!"
It was a lesson I’ve never forgotten: not all beauty is like a painted Caribbean sunset or the swirl of tropical fish on a corral reef. Every time we go outside to look, beauty is staring us straight in the face and saying, silently, “look.” And now, I do.
— Jeff Rennicke (all photographs by the author unless otherwise noted).
What beauty has surprised you? Reminded you to look closely? Drop me a message below and let me know.