Colorado Horse Country

Summer afternoons in the Colorado Rocky Mountains are typically prone to thunderstorms as the heat from the plains rises and meets the cold mountain air. This afternoon was not different. I was on my way home and my neighbor's beautiful horses were out in the front pasture enjoying the sweet green grass of the high mountain valley. I could not resist their sweet innocence and elegant forms as a thunderstorm rumbled in the distance and I stopped to photograph them. The wind kicked up and tousled their manes. A little brown bird was perched on the back of the gray and white appaloosa hitching a free ride. I was taken in with the view and lost myself in the herd as another perfect Colorado Rocky Mountain day lazily unfolded.

Horse Country
Two appaloosa horses graze in a green mountain valley in northern Colorado under a storm threatening sky.
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Shyness
A beautiful dun horse shyly turns her face as the wind blows her mane and the sky turns dark in the northern Colorado mountains. If you look closely you might be able to just make out the tiny brown bird on the gray appaloosa on the left.
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Pretty Girl
A pretty dun horse stands at a fence looking for a treat in the northern Colorado Rocky Mountains under a stormy sky.
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Etsy Buy Handmade JulieMagersSoulen

Lightning Storm in Colorado

Shooting lightning is a little like fishing. I set up my camera and open my lens with the remote waiting for a bite. There is a lot of waiting involved. There are a lot of hits that get away because they are out of the frame. But when I catch "one" it is a moment not unlike catching a fish. I dance around and can not wait to get it inside for a better look. And once in a great while, you get the "big one!" Here are a couple that did not get away.

Lightning 7x7 Fine Art Photograph

Etsy Buy Handmade JulieMagersSoulen

Sunday Morning Gallery - For the Love of Trees

I live in a world surrounded by the beauty and peaceful nature of trees. I see them first thing in the soft blue morning light after a fresh snow. I see them outside my antique window, the only one that occasionally gets frosty. I see them on a misty spring walk with the forest floor a rare emerald green. I see them in the evening after a thunderstorm has beaten and tossed them about only to see them still standing tall even in their death. And I see them peeking through wisps of fog as the whispers flow up hill and around their mighty trunks like a cat brushing a leg. To live in a world of trees is to find the heartbeat of nature and hold it close as a lover until your heart and theirs beat together.