Wild Persimmon Tree

Wild Persimmon Tree, Spotsylvania Courthouse, October 2025

 

I look forward to photographing this tree every fall. This year the leaves on the tree have all fallen already, but the persimmons still hang from the naked branches like small Christmas ornaments. The persimmons, not a fruit but actually a berry, provide food for wildlife. Birds that dine on persimmons include wild turkeys, robins, cedar waxwings, catbirds, pileated woodpeckers, and mockingbirds. Squirrels, opossums, and raccoons eat right from the tree, but other animals like deer, fox, bears, rodents, and skunks have to wait for the fruit to fall, which is actually when they reach their peak ripeness.

It’s challenging to find views of the tree that showcase its beauty. Some years I focus on the bark, other years the berries. In 2022 I managed to photograph the tree with lush leaves and nearly ripe persimmons. Another year I dragged a few branches home and styled the persimmons for still life pictures. This year I walked around the cemetery behind Berea Church and studied the tree in crisp morning light as a committee of vultures congregated on the water tower above. Happy to see my old friend.

Soft Focus

“Letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all.” —Pema Chödrön, Buddist Teacher

There’s a difference between hypervigilant scanning and mindful awareness.

Hypervigilant scanning is driven by anxiety and focused on threat detection; it is narrow, tense, and exhausting. Mindful awareness, on the other hand, is driven by curiosity and openness. It is expansive, relaxed, and energizing.

The practice of mindful awareness involves soft focus: a relaxed attention that can take in multiple streams of information without fixating anxiously on any one particular thing. It allows us to appreciate where we are right now. Aware and relaxed simultaneously. Soft focus is what allowed me to notice these beautiful fall anemones blooming outside the Arby’s in Ashland, even though I was hungry (way past lunch time) and even though I wasn’t on a “photo walk” and even though the setting wasn’t necessarily picturesque.

Donna, October 2025, taken with Yashica T4, Kodak Gold 200

I couldn’t have chosen a better hobby than photography for myself. Maybe chosen is the wrong word; it feels as though I kind of stumbled into photography. At first, taking pictures was another achievement for me. Something to master. For a while, I tried to make it into a small job, a side hustle. And many times, I thought about giving it up entirely. I am glad I kept at it. Because, over time, photography became a powerful healing practice in my life. (I am recovering from relational trauma.)

Photography provides me with consistent, gentle experiences that teach my nervous system about present-moment safety.

Sometimes, like this one where I was photographing the anemones, I start out with sharp, distinct focus as I begin the work. Then I settle in. And I end up with soft, relaxed focus. I wonder if this is why I like film so much. It gives me the latitude to step away from the immediacy of picture-taking (which, let’s face, is what digital photography is all about: instant feedback). The film approach suits me.

Leaving and Waving

Leaving and Waving, October 2025

I am deeply moved by Deanna Dikeman’s project, Leaving and Waving. Deanna took a small gesture of love, a simple family tradition, recognized it for the work of art it was, and then proceeded to document it for all her worth. Every photograph in her project resonates with my own experience as the parent of adult children. Waving good-bye after they visit is our tradition, too. And always, that goodbye is bittersweet. So proud of the men they have become while still holding tight to the little boys they once were. Deeply happy to see them, to hug them, to witness their lives. Willing to let them go. Knowing this is the right thing to do. Looking forward to their next visit before they even make it to the highway toward their own homes.