My hiking friends must know me well enough by now -- having spent who-knows-how-many hours and hiked hundreds of miles of trails with me -- to practically be able to predict when a Gushy Kurt Moment is about to happen. We’ll come upon a scene -- one lone, red-leafed maple tree, for example, positively glowing in fall color in an otherwise monochromatic forest of evergreens -- and I’ll enthuse: “Oh my, I love this state!”
The truth, I must admit, is even gushier than enjoyment of the place where I live, or hiking, or the company of good friends: What I really celebrate is seeing.
I walked out of the post office the other day and noticed wonderful light on some leaves. I pulled out my camera and spent several, happy minutes taking pictures. Another day I was feeding the neighbor's horse an apple, and the look of the scene -- Rusty’s big-’ol horse nose pressed right up in my face, and the lines of the fence around Rusty’s pasture, and of course the red color of the apple -- just blew me away.
All I can say in defense of my gushiness is that, as a photographer, I hope I needn’t apologize for having eyes.
