Choosing to Stay

The weather here in St. Augustine has been unusually kind since the beginning of the year.  Warmer than I remember it being in years past.  Almost summerlike at times.  Because of that, I’ve been able to get out every morning and evening with a camera — not chasing anything in particular, just practicing.

None of the photographs I’ve made recently rise to the level of becoming part of my collection.  And that’s okay.  Every single one has still drawn me in.  Still taught me something.  Still reminded me why I love this process so much.

Lately, it’s felt less about capturing and more about honing.  Paying attention.  Letting repetition deepen familiarity rather than dull it.  The light has been generous.  The air soft.  The kind of conditions that invite you outside without asking for anything in return.

I posted a simple sunset photo on Instagram recently — nothing extraordinary — and wrote that I don’t really need reminders as to why I’m in love with this city.  And yet, everything in that image felt like one anyway.  The skyline.  The architecture.  The people lingering under the Nights of Lights.  The quiet pull of history that seems to live in the air here.

St. Augustine has a way of doing that.

After spending so much of my life in places not of my choosing, there’s something deeply grounding about calling a place home because you want to be there.  About waking up and stepping into a world that feels familiar, layered, and alive — a place that continues to reward attention.

Lately, I’ve been feeling a simple sense of good fortune.  Gratitude without urgency.  Pride without performance.  Just the quiet appreciation of being exactly where I am, doing exactly what I’m doing.

Sometimes the work isn’t about producing something new.  Sometimes it’s about staying present long enough to recognize what you already have.