Today I set out on a sunny fall day with two intentions in mind: mushrooms and salmon. Simple goals. Soul-filling goals. The kind that pull me back into nature and out of my swirling thoughts. I headed to a local river known for its salmon run, hoping to catch the first signs of the season. I was too early — not a single salmon. But the river still offered me a guide. A female Belted Kingfisher perched nearby, chattering as if reminding me to trust the timing of things. Kingf

When I woke up Saturday morning, the sound of pouring rain hit the windows like static—loud, relentless, and chaotic. It matched how my mind had been feeling lately: scattered thoughts, restless energy, and a heaviness I couldn’t shake. I had planned to spend the day with my macro lens photographing moss and mushrooms—tiny worlds of stillness—but instead, the storm arrived. At first, I sighed. Then something inside whispered: Go anyway. So I grabbed my 600mm lens, my Aunt, an

What do you do when the weather can’t make up its mind? You go for a walk, of course. That’s exactly what I did this weekend — unpredictable skies and all — with my sidekick Finnegan trotting beside me and my nature-loving Aunt joining the adventure. For me, an ideal day is just that: spending time with my little crew, exploring the natural world, and seeing what wildlife decides to make an appearance. Finnegan, of course, took his role as co-explorer very seriously — ears pe