Summertime in Minnesota is a constant overdose of neon green. After three years living in southern California, I had almost forgotten how alive vegetation can look - and that it's possible for plants to quench their thirst via rainwater instead of in the form of a sprinkler. It has been raining a lot in the Twin Cities ever since I arrived back home, and it shows. Every time I explore a new park, I'm surprised by how many shades of green there are, and how they cover almost everything.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the purpose of my photography. I have a lot of topics I'm passionate about: the local food movement, regional conservation of natural resources, getting people more in touch with the land (both for enjoyment purposes and being more connected with where their food comes from), buying less and making more, etc. etc. These are all subjects I read about a lot but rarely take action on in my daily life. I would like to be more of an active participant and learner, and less of a passive observer. I have a lot of ideas in the works, and I'll probably be talking about them more in the weeks to come.
I used to think that the overwhelming greenness of summer was boring because it was so ubiquitous; turns out I was just taking it for granted (along with many, many other things that I won't go into here) because I was so used to seeing it every year. Now I feel like my senses are heightened; when I'm surrounded by a tall canopy of green trees shadowing a fern-covered forest floor, I can smell the wetness of the green, hear the insects crunching on the green, taste the freshness of the green.
Green green green.