A New Year’s post from a photographer and a procrastinator
As those pesky New Year’s resolutions start to lose their glow, I figured it’s a good time for me to put up my New Year’s post. I really did mean to do it sooner, but it just didn’t feel right til today.
Wintry knoll between Castlewood and Saint Paul, Virginia. January 2025. Julie Williams Dixon copyright
There is no shortage of inspirational and contemplative missives from greater minds than mine. I’ll share a couple of my favorites. Kim Manley Ort informed my thinking in this new season about the importance of resisting despair and protecting joy. I aspire to distill my thoughts as well as she does. Another one of my influencers is Winn Collier, whose essays often lead me to deep reverence. He too is calling for more ways to cultivate joy. It’s hard to even think about joy as we watch our fellow humans suffer in floods and firestorms fueled by climate change. And the political chaos about to rain down is frankly terrifying. Given what we are navigating, just trying to be our best selves is a worthy goal. I hope you’re exploring ways to shore up what’s working for you, and building resilience to shift what’s not. I also hope you are getting the naps you need. Winter is a time for naps.
Since I talk better in pictures, I’m mostly gonna share a few recent images with a wee bit of backstory.
Like many, I get blue when the days go dark. I often choose a long solitary walk in the woods where I can meet my melancholy with the support of mother nature. The image above was taken on December 26th, in Umstead Forest, near Raleigh, North Carolina. I like the distorted reflections in the water as it ebbs into a horseshoe shaped pool. It was physically demanding to make this frame. I had to carefully navigate slick rocks in the creek, then go into a deep squat to achieve the angle I wanted. I felt like I had accomplished something. Actually, I felt joyful!
Along the same creek bed I saw this vine wrapped around a branch. It stirred something deep in me. Ties that bind? Support when you need it? We are all connected.
In early January I chose to drive straight into winter to spend time with my parents who just celebrated 70 years of marriage. I left the piedmont of NC knowing I would encounter some weather. I inched thru a white out flurry at one point, and pulled into a reststop. Dozens of people were frolicking in the flakes, and someone had already built a miniature snow man.
Once back on Interstate 81, near a place called Seven Mile Ford, in southwest Virginia, I spied a magnificent brick mansion high on a hill. I exited the highway and wound my way as close to the house as I could get. A giant tree offered her arms as frames around the abandoned home. I enjoyed myself immensely, though I was trespassing and the temperature was plummeting, so I took note to stop back on my return journey.
When I stopped on the way back a week later, geese were foraging in the icy fields. I felt like I was in a postcard.
Soon after returning from the invigorating cold of the mountains, I headed to the coast of North Carolina to help a friend celebrate 60 years. Of course I meandered on the way, and this old farm near Meadowview, NC just begged to be remembered. Not a soul to be found as the place quietly fades away. I can feel the past here.
I leave you with a sunrise scene. At Topsail Beach I awoke as the sun cracked the horizon. I grabbed my camera, and ran to the shore barefoot and in my pajamas. The light of dawn felt promising. It felt joyful.
I hope these images brought you even a small part of the exhilaration I felt while finding and making them. My photographic practice is medicine for me. I’m never happier than when something catches my eye or stirs my heart enough to raise the camera to my eye.
Happy New Year friends and family. We’ve got a lot to face together, so let’s resist despair and cultivate joy whenever we can. Let me know if any of this resonates for you. It helps to know the words and pictures have landed somewhere.
