Every time I go out to capture new images, I heed the call of my subject. How is this possible you ask? When I come to a junction along a trail, do I take the fork to the left or the right? I figuratively choose the path where my photographic subject dwells. I “listen” for my name. I wake from my tent and note the dominance of clouds. I “listen” for my subject to beckon me to its lodge or tell me it’s a bad light day. Sometimes the voice is loud, other times it’s a gentle murmur and at times it’s simply a compassionate whisper. While I may not hear a vociferous, “Russ,” I make the decision based on the...