Bubbling Springs Photography
There’s a moment every year where winter hasn’t quite let go—
but spring is already on its way.
You can see it.
You can feel it.
And sometimes… you can drive straight through it.
A Line You Could Actually See
The day this was taken, an ice storm moved through—but not evenly.
Down in the valley, it was just a cold, rainy, drizzly kind of day.
Nothing unusual. Nothing that felt like a storm had really hit.
But at the top of the hills, everything changed.
There was a layer of ice on everything—branches, grass, the smallest details all frozen in place.
You could see the line through the trees—clear as day—where the ice started and where it stopped.
Moving Between Two Worlds
That morning, the storm stretched into midday, giving me time—multiple chances—to go back out and photograph it.
I was driving in and out of the valley, taking the kids to school, running errands…
And every time, it felt like crossing between two completely different environments.
One moment: rain, wet roads, normal.
The next: silence, ice, everything held still.
Forgetting What You Just Came Through
What stood out most was how quickly it disappeared.
If the valley was wide enough, you’d almost forget.
Forget that just minutes before, everything had been frozen—
branches coated, fields locked in place, the world paused under a layer of ice.
By afternoon, it was gone.
Like it had never been there at all.
The Space Between
That’s what these images hold.
Not full winter.
Not quite spring.
But the space in between—where one still exists, even as the other begins.
Why I Photograph This
Because it feels familiar.
Because life doesn’t shift all at once either.
You can be in one place—heavy, cold, stuck—
and then suddenly, somewhere else.
And if you’re not paying attention, it can feel like what you just came through wasn’t even real.
Holding Onto What’s Easy to Miss
Most people wait for the obvious.
The green.
The warmth.
The clear beginning of something new.
But I’m drawn to this part—the quiet shift.
The places where change is happening, even if it isn’t fully visible yet.
Not Gone—Just Changing
The ice didn’t last.
But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.
These moments—this line between seasons, between places, between what was and what’s next—
they matter.
Because they remind us:
Change doesn’t happen all at once.
It happens in pieces.
In transitions.
In moments you can miss if you’re moving too fast.
And sometimes…
you only realize it was there
after you’ve already passed through it.
