The photograph above, called "Rails," is one of 24 black-and-white images  in a juried competition entitled Grayscale at the Black Box Gallery in Portland, Oregon.  The exhibition, which is curated by gallery director and photographer Todd Johnson, runs from April 1 to April 20, 2014.  My picture was taken soon after dawn on a winter's morning, with the sun just starting to burn through the fog.  (For the color version of this shot, click here.)  I had taken photographs along this stretch of railroad tracks before.  As soon as I looked out my window that morning, I realized the lighting conditions were just right to get a good picture.  The tracks are within easy walking distance of my house, although I drove there in deference to my gimpy knees and heavy photographic equipment.  I parked the car near a railroad crossing and walked about 100 yards south to a spot where the tracks, the embankments on both sides and the treelines all bend toward a single point on the horizon.  

There are obvious advantages to shooting close to home.  You know the territory, and you don't have to travel long distances, only to discover that a change in weather, lighting or a thousand and one other circumstances have defeated your purpose.  (My brother-in-law, a long-range weather forecaster of the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Admintration, once traveled to Hawaii to view a solar eclipse but never saw it due to dense cloud cover.)  I suppose I should be envious of photographers who venture far afield to shoot exotic locales.  But after a long business career that often involved getting on airplanes and flying hither and yon, I am content these days to stick close to home.  The challenge for me is to find beauty and mystery in things that lie close at hand.