I recently received a book as a gift from an old but rarely seen friend from Texas who’s now in Oklahoma. It was a collection of Ansel Adams photographs of the Sierra Nevada and it turned out to be the right book at the right time since I spent an hour paging through and finding myself more sensitive than ever, I think, to the composition and subjects of the pictures. I too rarely give such things their due. I saw how trees in the foreground or skies full of cloud-blown energy taking three quarters of the scene needed to be seen in a new way for me. Those trees…that sky…I felt to a degree awakened. I pulled down another Adams book that I’d...

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