It has taught me a new way to look at the world, to feel its natural rhythms and and to appreciate the beauty that surrounds me but seemed invisible before I looked through my viewfinder. In early May of 1999, I was walking through the families of Canadian Geese goslings at Sawhill ponds, a wild life refuge east of Boulder.  I snapped away at the little fuzzballs . Then  through the telephoto lens, I noticed one of the babies had fallen over.  The  gosling began  to twist and turn.  I knew in an instant the baby was caught on something.   I had to go to the end of a barbed wire fence and back again.  All the while  I watched  as the parents and siblings squawked and paced.  As I approached, the family backed off and down the pond embankment.  When I knelt down, I saw a large dirty fishhook  caught in the babies foot.  It was ripping a hole in the web.  I gently placed a gloved hand on the small body to hold it still  and threaded the hook back through the hole.  For a moment, the baby lay  there as I studied the web to determine the extent of the damage.  When I took my hand away,  the gosling pooped up as though nothing had happened.  All I saw was the bouncing yellow ball as he/she skittered down the embankment where the family welcomed him back.  One by one by one, they waddled into the water and swam away.  I sat there and watched, tears welling in my eyes.  Then I stood up and tore almost fifty feet of fishing line from the grass.  Something wonderful and compelling touched me and changed the way I see the world.  I hope you see it in my photography. 

Now, I produce very large images with multiple exposures and stitiching - it is a fscinating way to relatetot he subject. It's a totally different way of seeing - of discecting and constructing images from landscapes to flowers.