Now that it gets dark so early, Buster and I usually walk in the field behind the Howard Elementary and Kelly Middle schools instead of down at the river. Before they built the new sports facilities (not to mention the slick new buildings), we used to run around the schoolyard unimpeded by children, soccer balls, and other dog-walk-interrupting nuisances (the nerve!). While walking and grumbling I shot a few pictures, telling myself I was learning about exposure and white balance, but it turns out I’m getting really interested in the new schoolyard.

It isn’t just the uncluttered stretch of ground–rare in this suburb–open to the western sky and its amazing Oregon sunsets. Another part of it is the contrast between the battered, drafty school buildings that remain and the genuinely cool (and eco-friendly) new campus. And it’s been fun watching the Pop Warner kids throw the pigskin around in a real football field.

For someone who takes pictures to say they’re “interested in light” is about as insightful as anyone who’s alive saying they’re “interested in breathing,” but it may be that the biggest lessons I’m learning in the schoolyard have to do with light, and what qualities and circumstances make certain conditions more intriguing, more mysterious, maybe even more beautiful.

Gallery: Howard Elementary and Kelly Middle School Athletic Fields

All summer long I took pictures, most of them while walking Buster on the trails along the Willamette River. Some were for fun, but most were Landscapes with a capital “L.” At the time I liked them well enough, but looking back I can see they were maybe just a little stiff, a little dull.

Then Mark and I went to Hawaii for twelve days, and something changed. Next thing I knew I was walking around Kona, taking pictures all over the place with my Galaxy Note 5. Maybe it was the relaxed pace on the Big Island, everyone in flip-flops, nobody giving me side eye for letting my hair get all frizzy in the humidity. Or maybe it was breathing in the refreshing sea air every day. Or drinking in the refreshing vodka martinis every night. Whatever it was, I didn’t feel the need to rigidly compose every shot. If something looked interesting I took a picture of it, whether I thought it would make “art” or not.

That’s how I got one of my favorite photographs, this shot of a banyan tree in downtown Kona. I walked by it three times, each time thinking its undulating trunks and silvery bark were just sumptuous, and that the amber leaves cradled in its roots were like perfect jewels adorning a lovely woman. So I finally went back and shot it, close up and without any game plan other than capturing its gorgeous texture and color.

Mahalo, Banyan Tree of Kona.