Oaks of Righteousness
Some photographs begin with a destination. Others begin with a feeling that pulls you out the door long before sunrise. This image became more than a landscape to me. It became a reminder that some of the strongest things in life are shaped quietly, patiently, over time.
The first hint of daylight had only begun to soften the eastern sky when I arrived in Balm. I had driven these back roads before, always drawn to the wide-open spaces and the old oaks that seem to stand watch over the Florida prairie. On this particular morning, the world felt unusually still. There was no dramatic sunrise demanding attention, no rushing to chase changing light. Instead, everything invited me to slow down.
As the light gradually spread across the meadow, these oaks emerged from the darkness one by one. Their branches reached outward with a quiet confidence that only comes from years of standing through storms, droughts, and seasons of change. They weren’t simply part of the landscape—they were the landscape.
I spent several minutes making photographs, adjusting my composition only slightly as the light continued to improve. It wasn’t until later, after the camera was packed away and I began reflecting on the morning, that the verse came to mind.
“…that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.”
Isaiah 61:3
Suddenly the photograph felt complete.
I hadn’t gone to Balm looking for a Scripture verse. The verse found the photograph.
That has become one of my favorite parts of creating these pieces. Sometimes the connection is immediate. Other times it takes days before a passage quietly settles into place. When it does, it never feels forced. It feels discovered.
Those ancient oaks have weathered countless storms while remaining firmly rooted in the ground beneath them. They reminded me that faith often grows the same way—not through dramatic moments, but through quiet faithfulness over time.
That’s what I hope this photograph communicates.
Not simply the beauty of a Florida morning, but the strength that comes from being deeply rooted.
If this photograph speaks to you, it is available as a fine art print in my Etsy gallery.