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Posts Tagged ‘light’

i am going to wash the vase, but not quite yet.

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It has been almost two years since my photo essay Winter’s Light appeared in Talking Writing.

Of course I still love the light of this approaching season.

With that winter’s light in 2011, I focused on the illumination of “ordinary objects,” from condensation to old postcards hung on a wall.

With this morning’s near-winter light, I was struck by the illumination of branching fingers of ice.

To view such scenes at the start of the day feels magical.  Feels cold, too, but still magical. 😉

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the day was cold but beautiful

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Snow began to fall this morning and so I went to the window to check on my so-called copper branches.

These branches drape over a crumbling concrete wall.

The wall is adjacent to a muffler shop.  If I were to widen my shots you would see the mountain of tires, metal poles and big blue barrels.

The area is not easily accessible.  It is cordoned off on three sides by a metal fence.  It is only because I am next door and up high that I can see the beauty over the wall.

One day I may get up the nerve to talk with the manager and convince him to let me into the area, to climb over the tires, so that I can get up close to the tiny rambling woods.

But for now I am happy to shoot from a distance and later play with the images. As different details emerge out of the lovely chaos – a leaf still green, the illumination of paler twigs, and so forth – it feels a bit like painting with light.

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Straight honey I’ve slowly come to enjoy as an adult.  A honey bear can last me quite a while.  I use a bit on hot toast or a warm biscuit.  Such a breakfast I had this chill morning.  And you know what happened? But, of course, the sun came around the corner on her chariot and lit the little creature up.

 

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Based on very nice feedback about the tree and leaf images from my recent travels, and a special request, I have begun transforming some of the images into archival quality prints.  Unframed prints of this “one tree” from Dublin are now available here.

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There is poetry among these branches of the oak tree, with their few remaining leaves that are quite red in the full light of noon but in the wee hours of morn they are dark shadows fluttering like the wings of moths or butterflies, and then there’s that backdrop of a sky transforming from rosy dawn to bluest day.  Poetry, indeed.  I’m just not sure where the words are hiding.  In some nook or cranny perhaps just waiting to unfurl …

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That is the oak tree in the background, its canopy thinning so that the morning light shines through the bedroom window in the most interesting of ways.  Why photograph a spot of light on a window frame? I don’t know but I was drawn to do it, and thankful that I could.

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