At first I thought this image of looking up at the trees taken in Twain Harte, California, was mundane. But then, it stuck with me. Something about the space around that one tree stood out, and the way the light glowed in from an angle, and the movement of the pine needles. It almost makes me feel like I can hear the sound of the wind whooshing through the branches and making the forest sway. To me there's nothing better than standing under the cool shelter of a forest of pine trees, so I realized there was something about this image, though it may be simple, that I love.