I went back to Poverty Point yesterday morning. Left the house around 5:45 to get there before sunrise. Cold and dark. Nothing stirring but me and a barred owl that was hooting up in the treetops. I slowly made my way around the mounds, again disturbing the spirit deer that are active at night. This time there were a dozen or so hidden in the brush, bolting at my clumsiness, their white tails disappearing into the darkness.
I stayed for about an hour. I watched the sun rise into a cloudless sky. I tried to take photographs but couldn’t find them. It’s like the earthworks had given me pictures just the other day. Back again? So soon? We have nothing for you today. Go away and try again next week or next year. We will reconsider your request at that time.
Humbled, I put the gear away and just watched the morning come to life. Sometimes, a lot of times, it’s just not about photography at all.
[By the way, I have permission to photograph at Poverty Point after hours. Going there without permission will anger more than the photography gods and the earthworks spirits and could land you in a Louisiana jail.]