Some outings start with a plan, but the forest always reserves the right to rewrite it.
This photograph came from one of those April mornings in the Sudbury woods when I set out with a general idea — explore, listen, follow the signs of life returning after winter — but without any specific subject in mind.
Early spring is unpredictable like that.
You know the wildlife is out there, but you never know which direction the day will take you.

I’d been moving slowly along the trail, letting the forest set the pace, when a familiar tapping drifted through the trees.
It wasn’t a surprise exactly — more like a quiet invitation.
I followed the sound, adjusting my path as it grew clearer, until the moment revealed itself.
Not staged, not orchestrated, but also not pure luck.
Just the kind of encounter that happens when preparation meets presence.

That balance is what I love about photographing wildlife in the shoulder seasons.
You head out with intention, but you stay open to whatever the woods decide to offer.
Sometimes that means hours of silence.
Other times, it means stumbling into a scene that feels like it was waiting for you all along.

This image is a reminder of why I keep returning to places like Sudbury.

Even when the plan is loose, the forest has a way of rewarding anyone willing to slow down, listen, and follow a small clue into the trees.