I drive along and catch a glimpse of color and nature in my peripheral vision, barely deep enough into the woods to be mostly hidden. Another exquisite place. Just beyond the ditch lining the side of the road. Begging to be seen. Soon to be forgotten by most, hidden by the urgency of their travels.
I pull over the car. Hop over the guardrail. Climb through the brush. Business shoes squishing into the mud. Branches and brambles cutting into my face. Spider webs in my hair.
People driving past me look at me like I’m crazy. The curse of the creative urge. The insistent curiosity constantly tugging me away from my routines and obligations.
I know my photographer, painter and writer friends understand. I see them doing similar things. Drawn in by beauty, in all of its unlikely, and sometimes almost unrecognizable, forms.