Energy in the landscape — metaphor or reality?

Whenever I talk to people about my oil painting practice and my artwork I often talk about the energy that I experience from my subject; for me rocks, trees, and water carry intention. At first glance, this language sounds metaphorical, a poetic way to describe light, movement, and mood. Wind bends grasses, clouds race, water reflects the sky—these are observable forces, measurable and real. Trees and rocks will form to the flows of these energies.

What we call energy might be our sensitivity to change, contrast, and rhythm.

Yet there is another way to consider it. Human perception is not passive; it is embodied. When we stand before a vast lake or a dark forest, our nervous system responds. Heart rate shifts, attention sharpens, memories surface. The landscape seems to act upon us, not just visually but physically. In that sense, energy is not only out there, but between us and the world. It's like that vibe we get when we are interacting with a person, but in this case it is nature itself.

For me I will translate this exchange into shapes and marks on the canvas. Edges soften or sharpen, values compress or expand, colours vibrate or quiet. A storm can be rendered with broken strokes; stillness with broad, unified planes. These choices are not arbitrary. They arise from my own felt experience.

So, is energy a metaphor or a reality? Perhaps it is both: a measurable set of forces and a lived encounter that exceeds measurement. The landscape holds motion and structure; we bring awareness and meaning. Where they meet, energy becomes visible.