An old photographer legend says that each photographer has their own lone tree, perched at the top of a hill, waiting for them to photograph it. Granted, the legend's origin is dubious, mostly because I was the one who circulated it, but I believe it nonetheless.

I have toiled tirelessly all these years to find my lone tree, and though I have found numerous, none of them felt mine. They just weren't right.

One day, however, as I was driving from my hometown to the next town over, I saw it. It was sitting on the top of a hill, backlit by the setting sun, beckoning me seductively. I knew I had to have it right then.

Fortunately, I managed to escape being the hero in a badly written porno book, and actually did photograph the tree. After a quick but expert edits (because I must bless my beard), the result was what you see above, a photo I am very happy with.