There were fields of snow geese in the Skagit Valley this weekend. Other smaller birds migrating too, making patterns in the sky that swooped and changed, like shifting patterns of lace across the sky. I pulled over, and took photos of course. The little camera still wasn't up for it, where's the high speed setting on that thing? I'll figure it out. But I didn't figure it out Sunday, and that was fine. It was satisfying just to watch, and to take pictures not knowing how they would turn out, since however they did, they'd be something to look at later.
I've been thinking about what makes something, or someone, interesting. I take photos of power lines, of grey skies, of the sun hidden behind clouds. These are things I always like, am always interested in. The shape of birds in the sky satisfies me. Pam and I took a trip to the Oregon Coast together once, and on the drive out, through tall evergreens, winding roads, fog in the dark, I commented on how much I loved it all, how it was my favorite landscape. "Really?" she said, genuinely surprised. She didn't feel the same way, said that her favorite landscapes were big skies, wide views. Just different. Who knows why.