PHOTOGRAPHER'S JOURNAL: At long last, here is spring, still tender and whispering, the first blush enhanced by overcast skies. Correspondents have for the past few weeks hinted, urged and cajoled for images of Spring. The photographer is limited by what the landscape offers. However, what began in the swamp is now climbing the hill. For me, not even Fall can surpass the delicacy with which Spring paints the hillsides, but the changes at this season come as a relentless surge; one day the trees are all Seurat, the next day they are Van Gogh. Fall can wash away in one good rain, or it can drag on for weeks, but spring always marches through, and the photographer who wishes to make the most of the season must watch and plan carefully. No good dawn is to be wasted. Some days I shoot both dawn and dusk. For some Spring is a time of pilgrimages, for me it is a time for vigils.
