Orb night remembered
Oregon field at dusk
The adventure of orb photography with a thank you.
I’ve written a short tribute to my growing number of new friends that are hooked on orb image photography. Over the past three years, I’ve spent a bit too much time chasing a dream that could be considered a passion by many, an obsession by some.
Orb photography is my journey quest.
I’ve traveled two continents, three nations, and many states and regions; while photographing and speaking with countless participants and fans; as well as detractors of orb image photography.
I couldn't do what I do without the support of my wife and partner Nancy. For her, I am ever grateful. She was the one that opened my eyes to the true meaning of orb images. Thank you Nancy!
I believe, based on my personal experience, that orb imagery is quite possibly projected from the spirit realm; in the attempt by an intelligent source to communicate with the viewer. Orb images represent much more than a fascinating oddity. I have witnessed amazement and excitement, as well as comfort on the faces of folks exposed to the world of orb image photography.
Through practice, as well as a tune-up of my intuitive powers (we all have them) I’m able to call orbs to the camera. Granted, this takes a bit of time, as well as “believing in the possibility of all things possible.” In the past, when I've doubted the existance of orbs; they go away.
It's been said that pictures are worth a thousand words, I hold hundreds of high resolution orb photographs; captured under all light and weather conditions.
As I continue to share my journey through Hubpages, I look forward to receiving photo’s as well as best wishes and heartfelt stories from my readers and fellow writers.
Orb night, orb bright, a wish I make, a wish I might.
Then darkness comes; a curtain drawn, a different world, until the dawn.
The sparrow swoops across the field, a barn owl’s hoot, as bat-wings shield.
In chase of mosquito, a dance across the sky of dusk, then falls upon the land a sudden hush;
of a not so silent night.
And then they come, the orbs of evening.
Slow to see, but soon we greet them.
Camera’s flash, words are traded, “over there! No, I think they've faded.”
Moments pass into hours go, as moonlight tints the evening show.
One hundred shots later, perhaps an hour or two, “don’t worry Nancy; I’m coming, a couple more will do!
Obsessive, I don’t think so, but then again, how would I know? As I turn to take that final shot, and dusk turns to darkness…
I believe it’s time to go.