Slide a hand over the lower left-hand corner and what do you see? A majestic snowy mountain range?
Only the relatively wee barbed wire-topped fence gives away both the scale and subject. It’s actually only about twelve feet of plowed snow caught at sunset. (Use of the word “only” to modify “twelve feet of snow” will not come as any surprise to inhabitants of the Northeast.)
I enjoy playing with scale when taking photographs, whether it’s an artificially overblown snow pile or a deceptively Lilliputian panorama reflected in a garden orb. An icicle seems to dwarf an enormous willow tree. Old Boston’s architectural scale captured in a single shot in Copley Square. A towering arachnid and a tiny beagle puppy. My husband’s still-warm hand, billowing clouds and blue and green mountains dotted below.