When I Stayed With The Image

Wednesday, January 21, 2026

Today’s header photo richly rewarded me after I paused to take second and third looks.

While reviewing my camera’s newest downloads, I noticed this image of a hiking path, with Chase far ahead of me as we walked. I liked it immediately—but hesitated. I wondered whether, as a header image, it would actually reveal the dog, or whether he would read only as a distant dark spot.

That question—would the dog work?—changed how I began seeing the image. Slowing down, staring longer, and looking more closely, the photograph grew more compelling. I stopped isolating its parts and began to see all its elements together. Suddenly, I recognized something new. This wasn’t just a snapshot. It felt complete—almost like an Old Master’s composition.

The image works with or without Chase’s presence because it behaves like a painting. It successfully captures depth, design, space, and distance. The path pulls the eye forward, framed naturally by trees that recede from near to far. The structure holds.

At first, I questioned whether Chase truly belonged in the scene. But looking longer altered my judgment. I moved from wondering whether the dog was clear or merely a murky blur to finding the image genuinely lovely—either way. The photograph works so well that Chase can stay, adding interest and quiet narrative to that moment.

That realization carried me, briefly, to Italy, where images of renowned artworks surfaced in my mind. When my thoughts returned home—to my snapshot, my dog, and my blog—I felt happier. Slowing my decision-making, allowing myself to wonder, and taking time to look again launched me into another kind of life—one that encourages imagining, evaluating, feeling, and deciding.

— Diana