A photograph has power for me when it takes me back to the place I made it – or to feelings that are aroused when I see it.
It’s like the famous anecdote in Proust’s “Remembrance of Things Past” in which Marcel eats the crumbs of a madeleine dipped in lime blossom tea – and the taste triggers a memory. It's like the smell of tangerines which takes me back to my six-year-old self sitting on a bench in a park with my dear uncle, peeling the juicy orange fruit.
This “Divine Sparks” image – one of my favorites from the Dance with the Winter Winds collection – reminds me of the moment I caught sight of the drama in the setting sun. Here, enhanced by a camera technique I love, I catch by happenstance the last radiance of the day bursting through the trees in wild fireworks of energy. Perhaps the joy is enhanced because I was fortunate to happen to look toward the setting sun as I spotted the potential for this joy. Ah - serendipity at play.