Sometimes when I’m photographing, I get lost. Not lost in space—I usually know where I am—but lost in time. I’m perfectly present, and perfectly in the present, without any sense of anything but what I’m seeing. You could say it’s a form of concentration similar to meditation (though I find it so much easier!). I focus deeply on the light and form of my subject and tune out everything else. This usually occurs when I’m in a peaceful, natural setting looking through the viewfinder of my Nikon, but it happened last week when I was downtown capturing cityscapes with my iPhone. I saw a bush of white Rose of Sharon blossoms backlit by the late afternoon sun. The effect was dramatic and lent itself nicely to some experimentation with black and white. I started shooting a few feet away, being careful to avoid the sidewalk traffic near the National Gallery. As I moved closer, I caught one particular flower tilted at an angle, and like the bumble bee frenziedly coating itself with pollen, I was drawn closer and closer to the center. I captured twenty different views before raising my head and remembering where I was. When I downloaded the images, I discovered a little drama was taking place behind the flower. The photos reveal a praying mantis moving around in the background, casting an ominous shadow through the flower until its head suddenly pops up to peek over the edge of a petal. I had to laugh. While I concentrated on the light coming through the petals and the activity of the bee, the mantis was concentrating on me!