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Posts Tagged ‘beauty’

I was standing by the window waiting for them all to take flight and so I nearly missed the one that did.

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Some folks think I yearn for a big field to garden, but I don’t.  I enjoy my few clay pots and random mugs filled with dirt, tucked in all sorts of corners and moved about as my whim and the sun does strike.

It has been fun this year to grow flowers, herbs and the occasional vegetable.  The trailing green growth and splashes of color have been inspiring, as well as occasionally quite tasty.  Most of the herbs have died back or faded away completely with a few exceptions like the oregano.

I planted a few new seeds on Saturday.  Spicy cress, fenugreek and more nasturtium.  The fenugreek has already started to sprout.  Perhaps I’ll be able to harvest it for Christmas. On Sunday I picked up some paperwhite bulbs with a goal to plant them in January and perhaps soon after photograph white winter blooms against a backdrop of falling snow. Until then, I have these herbs and, oh yes, that violet.

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… it struck the bottom of the glass where it lay in its rack …

… and it was beautiful, too.

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It better be, to crawl around on the kitchen floor, photographing the undersides of African violets. It is certainly a pleasure to look up at what is so rarely seen.  There are two plants, both needing to be repotted.  A winter task I am looking forward to doing and then I hope to tuck the plants away into a warm winter spot where I won’t mess with them so much. One I’m definitely watering too much but the other has new buds forming. Perhaps it is of hardier stock. We’ll see …

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You can read more about the Brooks Estate via this link: http://www.brooksestate.org/

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That same day there was a glass on the table, and it too filled with light. As you might imagine, it was a very hard day to concentrate. It would have been easy to pull down some shades or find a dark corner, but I do declare, I just couldn’t do it.  I have no regrets even though I had to stay up a bit late to finish some writing assignments.

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Not flower petals. No view through rippled windows. It is a piece of cloth draped over a chair.  Yes, in that same kitchen with those magnificent windows. A bright ray of sun shone through and settled in the various folds.

The only reason I knew to look up from my laptop and in that direction was because the sun was burning my arm. My camera was near. I did not adjust the settings but what I captured I liked. The impressions of light and suggestion of form and the shifting shades of colors.

Eventually I did shift settings so that I might capture just a bit more of reality.

And after that I could play again in the light.

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… mad at some things that had happened around me.  Things that were kind of like bits of straw raining down upon a camel’s back.  What I felt was certainly legit but I also felt myself getting angrier than I needed to be.  I wanted to redirect that anger. A long walk, my method of choice, was out of the option because of the cold.  Yet I was determined not to do what I remember my mom having penchant for doing which was to sit in a literal and figurative dark place.  I was not ready to talk about what was bothering me.  There were no words quite formed for me to write.  What do do, what to do.  I decided to follow the advice I sometimes give to others when they tell me that they are tired of talking or that they cannot write (“I don’t know how to write. You’re the writer!”).  What do I suggest?  Draw.  So, I sat down to draw.  Now I almost stopped myself.  Why? Because I can’t draw.  Yes, I’ve dabbled in this that and the other thing but really even with the help of a ruler, I can’t make a straight line!  Then I took a deep breath and decided not to worry about straight lines. Curves can be cool.

As for what to draw … now I’ve been having this ongoing conversation with one of my little postcard penpals.  He’s my four-year old nephew living down in Virginia.  I’ve been sending him pictures of birds and squirrels and such.  He’s tasked with drawing me a fish.  Or a school of fish.  Maybe a shark.  As I sat at my desk in the bright sunlight, I drew fish for him and for myself, bright colored, imperfect, smiling fish.  My anger did not disappear but it came into perspective.  I have not sent the fishy bookmarks to the little guy.  I want to give him time to draw his fish for me and for himself in whatever colors of the rainbow he decides.

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The tree I photograph most often through the rippled window is dead.  The greenery and blooms captured throughout the seasons are mostly from vines like forsythia, ivy and something holly-like.  With each storm, more of the tree falls to the ground, whole branches and bits of bark.

For safety’s sake, at some point soon, whoever owns that particular piece of ground will have to chop that tree down.  The woodpeckers will certainly miss their perch and the insects that they dine upon will miss their home.  The vines I suspect will continue to thrive.

Even cut off at the base, they always seem to come back, finding new objects to drape upon. And the moss is ever present.

 

Adjacent is the neighbor’s garden.  He did quite well his first season with a multi-tiered, lush affair of eggplant and kale, tomatoes and cauliflower.

I expect he grew potatoes, too, like me.  And I know for sure I saw the green beans climbing up their strings.

As December looms, all that’s left are the relics of dark greens and tomatoes that I guess the city rabbits and city squirrels couldn’t figure out how to get.

There is the chain link fence but that doesn’t prevent his cat from getting out so I’d think that wouldn’t prevent other animals from getting in.  If I do my local Open Studios next year, perhaps I will focus on prints of scenes through the rippled glass.

One window, many views.  We’ll see.  Ideas are easy. It is the follow-through that’s hard. FYI, these are untouched photos of views in this early morning’s light.

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