The dogwood is the most unforgiving subject I have ever photographed.
The window is ruthless — ten days, maybe two weeks if the weather holds. Too early and the blooms haven't opened. Too late and the leaves have taken over, burying the flowers in green. You have one chance per year, and the year doesn't care about your schedule.
I have scouted roadsides, neighborhoods, and woodland groves across Georgia and Tennessee in early April, racing the calendar. I have driven slow through unfamiliar streets watching for that particular flash of white or pink against bare branches. I have knocked on doors and asked strangers if I can stand in their yard with a camera.
It has always been worth it.
The images in this collection — Georgia Romance, Slow Dance, Fragile, Backdrop, and others — came from trees that earned their names. Each one stopped me completely before I raised the camera.
Every print is a limited edition on Hahnemühle fine art rag paper, printed with professional Epson pigment inks built to last generations. Once an edition sells out it is gone permanently.
The dogwood doesn't wait. Neither should you.
