In my last post, I wrote that I’ve come to consider photography as a form of prayer, because of the way it encourages appreciation for God’s creation. This idea was first suggested to me by Howard Zehr, author of The Little Book of Contemplative Photography.

Zehr offers several exercises in which he encourages us to put aside any specific goals we might have for a photo session and simply pay attention to what presents itself. I really like that approach. One thing my own photo sessions have taught me is to pay attention. To notice.

Most of my best photos over the years have not been the carefully choreographed panoramic views of tourist attractions taken on vacations or the posed “grip-and-grin” shots taken at family gatherings. Instead, unexpected photo opportunities presented themselves and beckoned me to pay attention or miss out. I like to think of them as “God’s photo opportunities.”

Below are a dozen of my favorite examples.

While on vacation in Ireland, Pete and I trained our cameras on stunning emerald-green scenery, entire fields of furze, notable landmarks and castles galore. I almost failed to notice the pigeons populating the sidewalks of Dublin. This one seemed to say, “Hey, look at me!”

Likewise, Jerusalem offered a gazillion holy sites for everyone to dutifully photograph for the folks back home. But how could one possibly ignore His Majesty, the Cat? People in that part of the world seemed to like their cats, by the way. As we toured the Holy Land, we spotted several cat colonies among the tourist attractions, and the feral kitties always appeared healthy and well-fed.

Of course, some of God’s best photo opportunities have landed right in our own backyard. Small mammals may not be so glad to see this guy, but Pete and I think our resident hawk is magnificent! Pete likes to joke that we’ve provided a nice backyard deli for him by attracting all the other critters. I don’t like to think about that part. I just notice – and admire – the hawk.

In a project I like to think of as “God’s work, our hands,” Pete and I have been growing milkweed in our backyard for several years in an effort to protect the dwindling monarch butterfly population. It took nearly two years for the monarchs to find our plants, and we were beginning to wonder if they would ever show up. Then finally one day, I was SO excited to notice this little guy.

This busy little bee was so absorbed sipping nectar from one of my milkweed plants, he didn’t even notice me – which gave my camera ample opportunity to notice him and zoom in before he flitted to the next flower. He looked so cute and fuzzy that part of me wanted to reach out and pet him gently with my finger like one would do with a furry caterpillar, but the much-wiser part of me was content to admire him from a distance with my camera lens while he did God’s work of feeding the world by keeping everything pollinated.

Is this dragonfly magnificent or not?? I spotted him while walking through an outdoor labyrinth at Jubilee Farm – a little piece of Eden established by our community’s Dominican Sisters as a center for ecology and spirituality. Fortunately the labyrinth’s design invited me to spend as much time looking down as looking around, and I had my camera with me to capture this little beauty.

I used to get so frustrated with the squirrels in our backyard because they wouldn’t stay out of the bird feeders, and I tried everything I could think of to thwart the furry little trespassers. Finally I decided to enjoy the squirrels instead of fighting them. After all, I’m pretty sure our bushy-tailed buddies never got the memo that all the enticing delicacies were for birds and not for them. So these days I entertain myself by taking full advantage whenever God presents them to me for a photo opportunity.

We’ve traded in our neatly manicured lawn for a wildflower meadow since we stopped using chemicals of any kind in our yard. (Don’t worry, we do mow the lawn. But we don’t try to keep out the “weeds.”) Now the grass is interspersed with violets, white clover, dandelions and assorted small wildflowers that provide both nectar and pollen for our pollinators. This cute chipmunk inserted himself into the middle of things while I was photographing the wildflowers, and seemed to like our new lawn as much as the bees and butterflies do.

We all know how dark and depressing things can seem in the middle of winter. But one morning, in the midst of a bleak midwinter backyard scene, I spotted this brilliant flash of red.

I just love snowdrops! As soon as I notice these popping up out of the ground, I know that a long hard winter is coming to an end and spring is on its way.

For years, a gorgeous Rose of Sharon bush sat on the front corner of our house. From midsummer until the first frost, this lovely little show-off greeted me with hundreds of blossoms each time I pulled into the driveway. Its abundant profusion of blooms seemed to shout, “Glory to God!” The bees and the hummingbirds loved it. Then, a couple of years ago, an unusually harsh winter killed it. I’m so glad I was inspired the previous fall to pause my busy schedule long enough to take these photos of the bush and of a single perfect Rose of Sharon blossom.

When it comes to paying attention, my little Champie Cat reminds me to do this constantly. His whole personality seems to call out, “Notice me! Notice me!” And my camera loves him almost as much as I do. But he doesn’t stay in one place for long, so I need to be quick. He loves to turn pillows into cat beds and this is one of my all-time favorite photos – I like to call it “the Prince and the Pea.”

One thing I’ve learned about God’s photo opportunities is that – unlike tourist attractions or neatly lined-up groups of people – none of them are “posed.” They just appear, often when least expected – photobombing a scenic view of Jerusalem or swooping into my backyard or howling at me from the bedroom to get my attention. To capture them, I must pull myself away from my screens and my busy schedule long enough to notice. Or risk missing out.