They don’t walk beside me. They run towards me.
With them, the forest is never quiet. It rustles, shifts, breathes faster. My two little explorers move ahead with fearless curiosity, tongues out, paws steady on gravel. They don’t wait for direction. They lead, then turn back just long enough to make sure I am still there. That glance back says everything. Not dependence. Not obedience. Just a connection.
Photographing my own dogs is different. I know the rhythm of their steps, the way one slows down before the other, the way excitement softens into closeness. A kiss on a scruffy head. These images are not staged moments in the woods. They are a record of shared ground, shared air, shared time that moves faster than we think.
If this speaks to you
