William Carlos Williams, the physician poet from New Jersey, once wrote about plants emerging from winter slumber: “They enter the new world naked, cold, uncertain of all save that they enter.”
Are we really all that different right now? As we slip here in the river hills of Lancaster from Spring toward the start of Summer, all around us emerge nature’s awakening as well as a long-sought hope after a year-plus of pandemic confinement.
We’re far from the zenith of a July afternoon splashing in the pool or boogie boarding in the Atlantic surf, and we’re far from unwinding a world coiled into a scared posture due to the coronavirus.
An emergence, though, is underway. Around our Wexford home, the lilac and kousa dogwood, the azalea and the rhododendron have reentered the world, and surely our family will too. We already have, from our boys returning to youth baseball to safely having fully vaccinated friends and family over to share our splendid corner of the neighborhood.
And as this Springtime unwinding commences, I too sense an unfolding of a mostly dormant creative bloom. For the better part of this pandemic, my creative pursuits have hibernated. The camera and lenses remained stored in the cabinet. My finger tips stopped tapping a keyboard.
Sure, from time to time, I’d try to resurrect the effort, but I think the general stillness of our lives in quarantine acted on our creativity and motivation like winter chill does on the shrubs and plants of our yard.
I’m not sure what happened yesterday evening, but spurred on by the soft light of evening and the still air, I grabbed my 100mm lens and Canon camera body. Circling around the yard, I snapped what I could with one eye in the viewfinder and the other keeping watch over my kids playing in the cul de sac.
So here’s to entering the world around us again.
Dave Pidgeon is a photographing writer and writing photographer from Lancaster, Pa. He lives with his wife Alison and their three sons. You can contact him at email@example.com.