Healthy Aging Magazine |

PROFILE: Robert Atkinson, Photographer

Carolyn Worthington — Mon, 23 Sep 2024 11:19:16 +0000

My Life Long Passion for Photography Keeps Driving Me Forward

By Robert David Atkinson

From the moment I developed my first roll of film at eighteen, I knew I had found my calling. Photography has been an integral part of my life ever since, profoundly shaping my career and personal journey.

Every click of the shutter captures an image and a story, a moment frozen in time.

My work is not just a job but a deep-seated passion that blurs the lines between my professional and personal life. Whether working on a project or exploring new places during my free time, my camera is always by my side, ready to capture the world through my unique lens.

At 63, photography remains my greatest passion—a way to connect with the world and immortalize its beauty. Every photograph is a chance to share a piece of my creative journey, and that journey is far from over.

Nature has always been present in my personal work. Over the years, my creative focus has shifted through distinct phases. There was the tree phase, where the silent grandeur of forests captivated my lens.

Each tree tells its own story—a solitary oak standing in a field, a grove of birches shimmering in the breeze, or a dense forest pulsating with life.

The rock phase, where I found beauty in the rugged textures and timeless presence of stones with their varied shapes, sizes, and textures.

The urban phase, rustic textures, and machine parts. Decaying buildings and worn surfaces, each telling a story of endurance and transformation.

But my current bird phase is the most significant and enduring of all. Birds have become my muse, inspiring me wherever I go—whether in my backyard, nature preserves, or daily travels. My latest portfolio features black and white photographs, each enhanced with textures I capture separately. I find that removing the color disrupts our usual way of recognizing what we expect from a bird photograph.

The beauty of photographing birds for me lies in its ability to reveal the intricate details that often go unnoticed. Most of my photographs are hand-held, but with a high shutter speed, I can freeze a moment in time, highlighting the plumage, delicate patterns, and the expressive eyes of birds.

Each species presents a unique palette of colors and textures, from the crest of a Tufted Titmouse to the yellow eye of a Great Blue Heron. The challenge of capturing these details requires patience, resulting in images that celebrate the diversity and elegance of avian life.

Every birding outing is a story waiting to be told, a collection of moments revealing the avian world’s hidden wonders. It’s a practice that demands respect for nature and an understanding of the balance that sustains it.

As a photographer, I am constantly reminded of the privilege it is to witness these moments, to capture them, and to share their beauty and strangeness with others.

To that end, I have compiled my photos into my first book, A Silent Witness to Beauty. I try to tell the captivating stories of birds and other wildlife in a unique and compelling way. I strive to bring their tales to life, often from a first-person perspective.

Capturing The Bird’s View

This fictional narrative approach infuses these remarkable birds with human-like qualities, allowing readers to connect with them on a deeper, more emotional level. Here are a few examples . . .

There is the Cardinal who longs to return to Clinch Mountain. It had nested in the lush forests that adorned the majestic Clinch Mountain. Underneath the weeping willow tree, it reveled in the enchanting music that filled the air.

The Great Blue Heron’s presence in the Marsh was a source of inspiration for all who beheld his majesty. Who left behind the Marsh, which had been its home for many years. As it flew, it felt a sense of freedom and lightness that it had not felt in a long time.

The gathering of Great White Egrets photographed on Cape Cod, where, moving through the woods, I came across a clearing bathed in light. Here, a group of Egrets were performing an intricate dance, their long legs moving gracefully across the ground. It was a sight that felt like a secret, a glimpse into a world that exists parallel to our own. I tried to capture the elegance of their movements, the way their feathers caught the light, casting shadows that danced along with them while they hunted for fish.

Birding as a photographer is not just about capturing beauty; it’s about embracing the unexpected. Each outing holds the promise of encountering something rare or unusual. Once, in a dense forest, I stumbled upon a Northern Cardinal perched silently on a branch. Its eyes were large and unblinking. It was late Fall and I remember thinking that winter would be here soon. The resulting image was Waiting for Winter. “A story about how the Cardinal watched the world around it, the trees shedding their last leaves and waiting for the first snowflakes.”

There are times when the line between beauty and strangeness blurs. In the wetlands, I once photographed a Great White Egret. As I watched, the bird dipped its head and emerged with a wriggling fish, its beak snapping shut. The scene was beautiful and strange in its raw portrayal of nature’s cycle.

Birding is Accessible to Everyone

Every bird in flight has a story to tell. Each photograph and accompanying story reveal new, unexpected dimensions of these avian subjects. By presenting them in a way that highlights their personalities, emotions, and interactions, I hope to shed light on their lives’ intricate beauty and complexity.

My goal is to present a sense of wonder and appreciation for these incredible creatures, encouraging readers to see the world from their point of view and to recognize the profound connections that exist between all living beings.

Birding is accessible to everyone, regardless of age, fitness level, or location. Simply sitting quietly in a park or garden can reveal a surprising diversity of bird life. The joy of birding begins with awareness, with the realization that nature is not confined to remote wilderness but is present all around us.

Following Your Passion

Following your passion can lead to a deep sense of happiness and satisfaction. For me, that passion is photography.

When you pursue what you love, work feels less like a chore and more like a fulfilling endeavor, which can lead to greater joy and engagement in one’s life.

Passion provides a strong sense of purpose. It encourages personal growth and keeps you motivated even when obstacles arise. This alignment between your interests and actions creates a sense of accomplishment and contentment.

Ultimately, pursuing your passion enriches your life by making your experiences more meaningful and satisfying, and it can inspire others to do the same.

I have found mine in photography . . .

Robert David Atkinson is a professional photographer based in New York City with over 35 years of experience in commercial still life and personal nature/landscape photography. His debut book, A Silent Witness to Beauty, was recently awarded Gold / First Place – Fine Art Book in the prestigious Prix de la Photographie, Paris 2024 competition. You can see more of his work on Instagram.

IDEAS: The Power of Hello

Carolyn Worthington — Mon, 23 Sep 2024 11:14:51 +0000

By Mary Lea Carroll

Almost every woman has a crisis in her 60s about her life purpose as she ages. It can feel like a dog-end stage of time.

To help me with this, I began meditating earnestly. Ever since I could remember, to write a book seemed like reaching for a near-impossible golden ring. But now, in this desert landscape of age 60, what could I have to lose?

But the challenge was so intimidating that my morning meditations took me to, “Okay, since You, God, gave me this desire to write, You have to help me get there!”

Using this thinking every day, making it God’s job to help me, my first travel book came out when I was 65. Saint Everywhere—Travels in Search of the Lady Saints.

It took five years! But by popular demand, the second travel book came out at age 67, and it only took 18 months. Turns out, this dog-end stage of time could be exciting!

Learning how to turn a stay-at-home negative into a positive. Photo: Mary Lea Carroll

Discovering a solution to pandemic loneliness

But then the pandemic hit, and I had to stay home like everybody else. This was so frustrating and isolating for me. I’d lived in my neighborhood for 40 years, and by that time, I was, frankly, bored by it.

But just to get out of the house and pretend I was actually going somewhere, I took to ambling around my neighborhood on long, long daily walks, just walking and noticing what my neighbors were doing to get through the lockdown.

I saw baskets of freshly picked citrus on walkways with “help yourself” signs; lots of houses had “our nurses are our heroes” signs in their windows.

One neighbor set up a bookshelf out front and loaded it with all kinds of foodstuffs, adding to it daily. The sign read, “free. Not the shelf.” Cars pulled over, adding to the collection, not taking away.

These acts of generosity kind of opened my eyes to see anew my neighborhood, the very place I so took for granted! It inspired me to want to do something, too.

Out on the sidewalks, I now really looked around at my “lockdown” place. No, not a cramped apartment in China, Spain, or even New York.

No, I’ve lived in a leafy, spacious neighborhood all these years. Beautiful, really. I scolded myself that gratitude better be my response to being stuck here, not frustration.

With a new attitude of appreciation, I remember stepping out my front door and being struck by how much beauty was around me, the way the sun hit through the glimmering leaves of camphor trees that line the street.

How utterly charming to see so many, many people now out walking their dogs; and discovering on my walks how many secret little gardens were tucked here and there that I’d never noticed.

With time to reflect, I realized what this place had always, quietly, given me: Good and peaceful neighbors, that our children grew up happy here, and that here, we could afford a house friends and family liked to gather in. All such extremely precious things!

Normal yet precious at the same time. What else had I been disregarding? How about the cleanliness and the care other neighbors took with their homes and yards? They did this for the benefit of all who could see their places.

Traveling the neighborhood

It occurred to me that if I can’t travel the world–how about traveling my neighborhood and doing my best to reconnect with those I’d lost touch with over the years? Almost become a tourist in my own place and perhaps rediscover a sense of belonging.

It wasn’t easy just calling or texting someone I hadn’t connected with, in cases, more than ten years! But, like traveling, you must sometimes force yourself. It became an adventure to see how bold I could be.

I invited neighbors just to take a walk through the almost empty neighborhood streets. Some answered my texts with, “Who are you?” because just a phone number appeared; I’d been dropped from their contacts long ago. But for those who could be reached, they seemed genuinely happy to take a fresh-air stroll.

It was so simple—just walking and talking with a neighbor, but it offered so many benefits! The pleasure of walking side by side down a shaded street and hearing what’s going on from someone else.

Who’s having a baby, how much did somebody get for their house, what was that ambulance down the street all about. All the things one knows about when you belong somewhere.

Turns out, that was what I really wanted: a renewed sense of belonging, which helped me feel happier and more committed to my surroundings. Spending time with those around me, instead of staying at my computer all day, was a tonic.

Encouraged by the success of these meetups, I began striving to do more. The roses in my yard could be offered to cheer up a neighbor, right? And maybe cooking bigger meals again and offering dinner to someone, even someone as random as a neighbor’s brother who was sick?

Making it a mission to reconnect with neighbors. Photo: Mary Lea Carroll

Why not? What I learned . . .

A change for the better was happening within me. Before the pandemic, if a neighbor paused to say hi, usually I’d keep it brief—hurry on—after all, who isn’t in a hurry? But now, it has become an opportunity to offer someone complete, full attention, even when speaking six feet apart. Psychologists say this is what people want above all else.

It’s strange how difficult it can be to say hello to a neighbor you see often but don’t really talk to. In fact, a famous British travel writer once said it is more difficult to look over the garden wall and talk to your neighbor about barbequing than engaging with strangers half a world away.

Give someone happiness. Photo: Mary Lea Carroll

So, give yourself credit for even trying as you attempt to connect with those around you. There are dozens of ways to increase your contentment, connection, and enjoyment for the place you live.

Everyone has their own ways. I kept a daily diary of what I had done that gave someone happiness that day, just as a feel-good thing that also encouraged me to keep going.

Sunday morning bought extra croissants for the women next door;
Tuesday, hauled packing boxes to the little boys across the street to use for forts;
Thursday, offered a ride to the old lady who’d waited so long at the bus stop.

The funny thing is, after taking my own precious time and energy to do these small tasks for others, afterward, I had more energy—not less. It’s energizing! Dip into your own boldness– be the one to say hello first—who can say what door hello will open. . .

In our area, nobody sits out front on their lawns. I moved two chairs out and began doing just that in the late afternoons to call out a welcoming “hi” to those walking by with their dogs.

After the initial awkwardness of feeling on display, it became my own suburban version of a sidewalk cafe.

Pretty soon, I couldn’t read anymore since there were so many small conversations to have. Through sitting out front, I learned our mail carrier’s name. Armando. When Armando suddenly didn’t come anymore, I missed his cheerful banter. Then I discovered he’d been hit by a car.

If I hadn’t known his name, I wouldn’t have left a get-well card for him. And surprisingly, in my mailbox came a thank you card from him! One day, Armando returned. We were both glad to see each other! Isn’t that more satisfying than having zero thought or response to someone who comes by your mailbox every single day?

Through sitting out front, I learned our UPS driver’s name. Jeannette. It astounded me to learn she’d been my UPS delivery person for 34 years! She remembered delivering baby-gift packages to my house 30 years ago, and she remembered the name of our dog, Charlie, who died ten years ago! Well, I just had to hug her!

Lots of people can say they’ve traveled the world, but how many can say they’ve hugged their UPS driver?

I discovered that to maintain a life that’s more satisfying– more grounding, more meaningful, more full of possibilities, it’s important to know and, therefore, be able to understand the people around you.

Of course, most people can’t sit on their lawns in the middle of the day, but everyone has some other version of this. Being present to your neighbors is the basis of the helpful give-and-take web of support we want our neighborhoods to be.

What a balm it is to drive my streets and, passing house after house, to point with my mind’s eye and think, “A good person lives there—and a good person lives there—and a good person lives over there…”

“In frontier times it was important to be a good neighbor because there were so few. Today it is even more important because neighbors are so many.” Lady Bird Johnson

Mary Lea Carroll is the author of Across the Street, Around the Corner, A Road Home, Saint Everywhere-Travels in Search of the Lady Saints (a People Magazine Pick), and Somehow Saints-More Travels in Search of the Saintly.