Milkweed Black and White

MilkeweedBWw

Can’t say that I have been very productive this past week. I think I was fighting off the flu that is going around so I will use that as an excuse. I did spend some time working on my Black and White photography course and this was one of the images I converted for my homework assignment. So with little else to work from it gets the nod for image of the week.

Raspberries

Raspberriesw

I’m working on an online workshop on food photography. Half the fun has been shopping for props like the antique spoon and silver sugar bowl seen here. I was about to despair of finding affordable and tarnished silverware at the local antique mall when I stumbled upon a vendor with bins full of spoons and forks for $1.00 each. I made a haul of assorted patterns so have lots to choose from now. This was shot with the lensbaby Velvet 85 which is rapidly becoming my favorite lens, especially for macro work.

And for you haiku fans:

Food Photography
Two of my favorite things
Luscious pursuit.

 

Shrimp Boats

ShrimpBoatsw

This probably would not have been my choice for image of the week except that it was such a crazy week it was the only thing I had a chance to work on. I was working on purging the files for 2017 and came across these shrimp boats from my North Carolina trip and was inspired to create an art piece using some net pictures and a nautical map for background. Then my Mom was in the hospital and I was standing by to take care of her when she got out and then had to go stay with her for a few days so not much photography got done. I’m not completely happy with this piece but I like the way it is going, I just think it may need more work before it is unleashed.

Image of the Year – Monarch Butterfly

Monarch

I’ve just completed a scrapbook documenting my year in photography and photo artistry so over the past month I have looked at almost all of the nearly 12,000 images in my files for 2017. This one stood out for me to be the image of the year. I love the subject, I love the colors, and I love remembering how excited I was when this beautiful creature came along to pose for me. Next project is to go through the files again and weed out the clunkers.

And for my poetry fans, I just cleared all the poetry books out of my office and in honor of my upcoming trip to Japan I have made a new year’s resolution to do a haiku every day in 2018. So this one is a warm up:

Monarch Butterfly

Threatened by our careless ways

I am steeped in awe.

-Jeanne Hoadley

Day 100 – Santa

Santa

A Visit from Saint Nicholas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”


-Clement Clarke Moore


And so ends the 100 days project. As you might imagine I have been saving this one from my night photography session last week though I played with it a bit in Photoshop today. And the poem, of course, is longer than I usually like but it seemed appropriate to share the full version.


As with all my 100 days projects I’ve been reminded that I don’t do my best work under pressure but I also come up with images that I never would have just because I have to force myself out the door. Lighroom tells me that I now have 5184 images in the 100 days file and windows explorer tells me that my 1 terabyte hard drive is almost full. So there is still a lot of editing ahead of me. I plan to do a web gallery of the best images and the best of the best will be printed and hung at the Ashland Artisan’s Emporium. Thanks to all who have been following and supporting me through this venture. Happy Winter Solstice and whatever other holidays you may be celebrating this month!

Day 99 – Maple seeds

MapleSeed

Samara (Maple Tree Seeds)

Paper whirly-birds.
They look so much 
like pairs of insects’ wings, 
spi-
ral-
ing
down
to the ground, 
helicopters landing
on springy tarmacs
to deposit
next year’s forest, 
gently, 
like precious cargo.

Sweet to think
that trees
once had wings
and flew. 

-Sonny Rainshine

The weather turned out to be not as bad as forecast this morning so I was able to get out for one last trip to Lithia Park. I started out looking for wood ducks but they appear to have not arrived yet. I proceeded on to the Japanese garden photographing rain droplets on branches along the way. But I really like this close up of a maple seed still hanging from the tree. We used to call them helicopters and play with them as children. So I could really relate to the poem I found to go with it.

Day 98 – Rosebud

Rosebud

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he’s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he’s to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.

-Robert Herrick (1591-1674)

Well my good intentions of photographing every day this week have been preempted by the need to help my Mom get ready for Christmas and a rather nasty turn in the weather. We’ll see how tomorrow goes but for today you get another one from the rose garden. When I looked at this picture the first line of this poem just popped into my head so I thought, well, why not. We might say the same of autumn. It is going, going…and soon will be gone.

Day 97 – Common Mergansers

Mergansers

Merganser Haiku

Common Merganser

You look so unlike your mate

Could God not decide?

-Jeanne Hoadley

Well, not many poems about merganser’s that’s for sure. I even had a Mary Oliver poem picked out but I could not find it online and I was not about to type the whole thing in. So, you get my Haiku instead. I decided since it is the last week of the project I should pull out all the stops and go to my favorite places to photograph. So, in spite of being a major snow wimp, I made the trek over the Greensprings to the Klamath Basin. There were patches of ice on the road but the Honda performed like a champ and I reminded myself this is why I insist on having all wheel drive. There were lots of hawks, lots of blue herons, a few ducks, and a flock of geese way out in the middle of the lake sitting on the ice. This may be the first time I have been to the refuges and not seen a bald eagle, and this is supposed to be their best time of year. I dithered between a hawk, a heron and this image but I love the expression on the male’s face, turns out he was thinking about flying away, which he did in the next frame.

Day 96 – Faded Rose

FadedRoseDec

Roses, Late Summer

What happens
to the leaves after
they turn red and golden and fall
away? What happens

to the singing birds
when they can’t sing
any longer? What happens
to their quick wings?

Do you think there is any
personal heaven
for any of us?
Do you think anyone,

the other side of that darkness,
will call to us, meaning us?
Beyond the trees
the foxes keep teaching their children

to live in the valley.
so they never seem to vanish, they are always there
in the blossom of the light
that stands up every morning

in the dark sky.
And over one more set of hills,
along the sea,
the last roses have opened their factories of sweetness

and are giving it back to the world.
If I had another life
I would want to spend it all on some
unstinting happiness.

I would be a fox, or a tree
full of waving branches.
I wouldn’t mind being a rose
in a field full of roses.

Fear has not yet occurred to them, nor ambition.
Reason they have not yet thought of.
Neither do they ask how long they must be roses, and then what.
Or any other foolish question.

-Mary Oliver

Today I went back to the rose garden to see what I might  be able to do with faded roses. I didn’t want to go, I had to drag myself out the door. (I think my thermometer is broken, it keeps telling me it is 30 degrees even in mid afternoon).  But once I got there I was just blown away by the subtle beauty and muted colors I was finding. I could easily finish out the 100 days with rose pictures. But I have a few other things in mind. I may just inundate you with Mary Oliver though. I’ve run through all the good autumn poems and I’m getting really tired of wading through all the crap that gets posted on hello poetry;  but Mary always has something to say that’s worth listening to. And she is my all time favorite poet. But we’ll see where the next four days take us.