I used to look at a scene like this as a jumble of leaves and stems and branches. No focus. No direction. Just a mass without borders. And I couldn't see a picture to make in a place like this.
So when the nice man said, "Look here, take a picture of this tree," as he pointed to the Corkscrew Hazel in his front yard, I complied reluctantly. Based on past experience, this photograph was going to look like a blob.
Determined to see differently, I saw a path, twisting and turning. A sculpture of pattern and light that is the road I travel. Finding my own sense of beauty in the branches of this tree, this is the picture I made.