More of the shade garden in a gallery of impressions–light, movement, color, grace.
I talked with the daughter of a well-known painter a few years ago and she told me that once, when her father left for trip to South America, he did not pack any green paint because he wanted to be forced to paint the richness and variety of what he saw, rather than someone else’s narrow definition of green. Working with my shots of the past few days, that story kept popping up in my thoughts. Green? The possibilities are wonderfully infinite.
Taking a two week break (really? Didn’t you just take a couple of months off?) to visit my family in the south and, on the way there, a return visit to…drum roll, please…the Junkyard of My Dreams!
Lily of the Valley, after her morning shower. No flowers yet, but some tightly-held promises that she will grace us with delicate white blooms within the next few days.
Click on any image to view the gallery as a slideshow.
“For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.”
From The Song of Solomon, Book Two, Lines 11-13
Solomon’s Seal is up and ready to flower. Portraits taken Thursday morning. The blue flowers are borage.
Some lovely late-blooming tulips:
I’m more than a little pleased with my results. I was shooting with a 60mm lens, camera handheld, and with a bit of a breeze to make things interesting.
I think I have found my lens of choice for the next six weeks: the 60mm. Nothing else has been working for me for a few months now–I couldn’t shoot a good picture for the life of me– and frankly, I thought my Muse had permanently moved on to greener pastures. I’ve changed my mind on that–I don’t think my Muse has wandered off so much as she has been viewing the world through increasingly dirty windows. I’m having cataract surgery in mid-June and I’m pretty confident that once I have a cleaner view of the world, my Muse will shift into overdrive to make up for lost time.
Meanwhile, closeups with the 60mm seem to be working well–all I can produce with other lenses are flat, blurred or incorrectly exposed shots.
The last time I posted, I suggested that maybe once all the crazy at Chez Wabi Sabi had settled down, I would reward myself with a new lens. The implication there was camera lens. Honestly, new lenses for my eyeballs was not what I had in mind.
I guess that when one speaks with the Universe, one needs to be specific as to plans and intent.
Petite wet-snow blizzard Friday afternoon. It was like shooting in the rain.
I’ve driven over this little overpass a few zillion times in my life, but it never occurred to me to stop until I caught a glimpse of it in the storm on Friday.
Just when we think our lives are settled and predictable, circumstances can change abruptly, rocketing our complacent selves into a whole new narrative. That doesn’t mean bad things are happening in Wabi Sabi land, but an unexpected turn of events has switched us all onto a wildly different track. I put aside my camera for a while, something I haven’t done in years, but I’m thinking it’s maybe safe to quietly exhale now. Even new narratives should yield a little creative space.
Hmmm…maybe I should buy a new lens. Major metaphoric statement, yes?
…if our lives came equipped with such easy-to-read markers.
Buoys are marking the entrance to Lake Pepin, a really wide spot on the Mississippi River.
Not enough haze to be fog, but enough to lay a filter over my early morning outing.