When you live in an area long enough, you eventually will run out of novel places to photograph. Though I strive to find new settings to explore, my daily exercise “hikes” tend to center around a limited number of trails that are close to my home whether in Pennsylvania or the Adirondacks.

Now I agree that every season brings its own peculiar “touch” to the landscape, but after 30+ years, I’ve seen most of the variations. For this reason, on a familiar trail, it’s tempting to either forgo bringing a camera at all (relying on my cell phone for any photography) or bring lighter kit, like my small Sony RX 100 pocket camera. Though the latter is capable of good imaging, I get nowhere near the quality for instance, of one of my larger sensored Fujifilm X cameras.

A couple of Saturdays ago, I visited a local state game lands. One attraction is the “Pear farm” a historic orchard that in the 1920s occupied a ridge overlooking the Nescopeck creek valley.  By the sheerest of coincidences, it also overlooked a dense woodland shrouding an illegal still.

I walk this frequently and have obtained some good photography there over the years. I have never found any sign of the still, which said to have been destroyed by “revenuers” before prohibition ended.

 The Pennsylvania Game Commission maintains the property by mowing the field and planting grasses that are apparently a rich food source for a variety of wildlife. But on this particular day, the sky was gray, and there was only a light coating of snow. There had also been some timbering done which I was eager to see. I did not anticipate much in the way of photographic opportunities. Nonetheless, the only camera bag in the car was one containing my Fujifilm X 100F and X E3. More to add weight and thus burn calories, rather than with any hope of photographic opportunity, I shouldered the bag, grabbed a monopod and began the hike up the mountain.

The timbering, as it turned out, was extensive. To my eye, what looked like several hundred acres had been cleared, with only a few spindly seed trees left to repopulate the land. I know from conversations with game commission foresters, that such timbering is done for habitat restoration, In this case, the goal was reestablishing a mixed oak forest, albeit one I will never see. In the meantime, forest succession will provide a variety of habitats for game animals.

It early in the year, the sun angle was low, and in the late afternoon with clearing to the west, there were already red highlights in the gray sky. The clouds, far from a uniform white, were more complex and foreboding. The timbered landscape created a stark, slightly disturbing scene. As it was on a weekend, the timber crew was off and the machines idle which opened up my options for access.

Most intriguingly, the rather aggressive timbering had actually opened up a pleasant view scape down the Nescopeck Valley to the distant farmland of Butler Township.

From my point of view, what I assumed would be a rather mundane walk for exercise, turned out to have enough visual interest to stimulate my photography gene.

Every once in a while something will change a familiar landscape into something delightful. It may be a new angle to the light, strange atmospheric conditions, or in this case a physical change to the land. Nonetheless as a photographer, one probably ought to consider packing sufficient quality gear that you don’t miss out on opportunities when they present.