Spruce on Granite

I had hiked through the area many times before, almost passing right by.

My plan was to find older tree roots wrapping around the granite outcroppings so typical of Mount Desert Island. Hidden on a side trail with no one else around—on one of the busiest islands of Maine—I had finally found my spruce tree. Or rather, I had stumbled into a fairy-tale forest—ancient spruce trees draped in lichen, rich green moss climbing the hillside, all so close to the coast I could smell the salt air. Best of all, it was just me and these ancient spruce trees deciding what would happen next.

I knew it wouldn't be easy. I had been here in the spring fog and spotted a few places with potential, but something hadn't felt right. I hoped for better luck this time. Revisiting a place grounds me more deeply in nature. I can hear the song birds more clearly. I notice the branches rustling in the shifting breeze. Sometimes I stop and simply sense the trees that surround me. This one spruce spoke volumes, so I lingered longer than expected, spending more time than I'd planned. The forest glowed under the cloud cover. The light was perfect, the sun hidden behind the hill soon to set. Time was running out.

I swapped lenses to capture the exact composition. My hands trembled. Thankfully, the forest and time stood still. I had just the right framing of this spruce standing protective over its pink granite which had supported it for decades.

My heart leapt a bit as I readied to take my final shot.