Happy Sunday.

I am not sure what happened, but along the trail at Rutland Water I came upon a quantity of loose scattered feathers, like this pure white one, caught well above waist height in the dead foliage of a bush. I passed it by, but had to stop and return. The contrast in color and texture, the bold clean white curves against the clutter of background, was just too tempting.

It is a tricky exposure problem. Heavy recovery was needed in Lightroom to bring up the texture of the feather.

Nikon Coolpix P500 at 32mm equivalent field of view, f3.7 @ 1/640th @ ISO 160. Close Up mode.

Processed for Clarity, Sharpness, and highlights in Lightroom.

And for the Sunday thought…well it is a very simple image, after all, to hang any great spiritual truth on. There is the thought of the passing of whatever passed along the trail, supper for fox or Great Black-backed Gull, that left the scatter of feathers to catch our eye…bitter sweet. Or we might think of the wind that picked this feather up and hung it in the bush like an ornament, which would lead to our capacity, our propensity, to see it so…and to a kinship with who breaths the wind. But mostly it is a matter of being arrested, stopped, brought to witness, by the simplicity of a white feather caught in a bush. And, on a Sunday, or any other day, that just might be enough to be going on with.