Nothing says summer like ...
As a gardener, nothing says summer like purple coneflower. I love the way it spreads to create a pool of pink. Add a little sunshine and some yellow blooms as a backdrop and you’re (it’s) golden.
Every color in the rainbow... almost
Every color in the rainbow
Something so satisfying when you can find every color in the viewfinder. Perhaps you’ll nit pick and say that there’s no yellow here, but we could have made that happen as well. Early summer evenings, especially after a rain, leave the ground colors saturated and the sky colors muted.
It’s a tranquil scene that brings a feeling of peace and calm.
Can’t you just about feel the grass between your bare toes?
Volunteers
Volunteers.
Since my second vegetable garden, oh so many years ago, I have been fascinated at the “volunteers” from the year before. These are plants that defy the rototiller and spring up unbidden in the new spring garden.
I’ve had volunteer tomatoes, chives (pictured), lettuce, corn, and others. Not to mention the strawberries that I rescued a few years ago at a plant sale, which have been quietly spreading from their spot that I so quickly planted them in.
Veggie gardens are a lot of work, so one has to marvel that some of these volunteers show up year after year, to lend their fruits – er, their vegetables? – to our labors.
Speaking of which, we’re now accepting applications for volunteer weeders. No takers? LOL.
Until next time.
When the sky's the subject
When the sky’s the subject
As a photographer, I never stop learning. First it was about equipment and learning about focus, exposure, developing. All the buttons and dials, ratios and fractions. Then it became about what makes a good photo. Concept, composition, light, color, value range, emotion, the story. (and more)
I didn’t realize that as I delved deeper, I would also be learning as much as I could about meteorology and geography, sunset times and star maps.
But like any worthwhile endeavor, photography offers many layers of meaning to explore. Whether using my 110 Kodak camera, my Dad's 120, my first 35mm, a Polaroid or a DSLR, there have always been the unknowns that have to be mastered.
Not to mention the software and post production capabilities that await the photographer once the shutter is pressed. While I prefer a natural look, I also enjoy immensely “pushing” an image to its limits, to see what can be revealed with a slider. And all without the stinky chemicals of the darkroom.
I guess you could say the sky's the limit. What a wonderful world.
Scattered sunlight
Scattered sunlight.
One of my favorite places to watch the sun go down, this is a view from my patio west. The rays of light are falling against my “shade garden.” It started as a rocky spot in the lawn between two trees.
When we first moved here, this spot was a pain to mow, and the tree roots made the lawnmower groan and clack. So I put in a bunch of hardy perrenials that could withstand the jet stream west wind, and the rest is history. This garden has been thoroughly neglected over the past 10 years and continues to bring color and joy to the yard.
It once had a mulch path, and a plan for expansion to the nearby pines that give our place its name. However, things don’t always go according to plan; still it frames a wonderful view out west on these summer evenings.
Lazy daisy days
Lazy daisy days
It’s not really hot enough to call this Wisconsin summer lazy just yet. But these happy flowers are making their move to take over the lawn.
We go around. They only bloom for a few weeks, and they add a beautiful brightness to the mornings and an ethereal glow to windy twilight moments.
Daisies are actually in the sunflower family, and are heliotropic: their faces turn toward the sun as it moves through the blue summer sky.
Two songs about daisies come to mind, both about love. “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do….” made famous by Nat King Cole, and also known as the Bicycle Built for Two song. And then there is “I’ll give you a daisy a day,” Glen Campbell’s ballad of long-lasting love.
Tell me now, which one are you humming?
After the storm
After the storm
May is not without its thunderstorms, and this spring has been no exception. I much prefer the quiet rains that fall at night while we are sleeping, or in my case, lying awake listening to the rain!
I do love the early evening storms that clear just before sunset. The skies are dramatic and colorful, and the light seems to bounce off every surface with a wonderful warm glow.
Sitting on the patio watching the sunset. A great way to end the day.
Hosta in shadow
Hosta in shadow
The rich greens of summer in the cool shade. Does it get any better than this? I love the variegated leaves, the wrinkles and curves of these hardy plants that come back year after year, always bigger and always more plentiful!
Hostas make for less mowing, and provide shade for my garden gnome. You'll have to stay tuned if you want to meet him, he's a bit elusive!
Hasta la vista!
Lilac Sunset
Lilac sunset
The lilacs are a bit late to bloom this year. I think it's because of that blizzard in mid-April. You have seen this photo before if you're the proud owner of a Seasons of Wisconsin 2018 calendar, and you may have shared it with others if you bought my first card set.
This evening was very peaceful, except for the three kids playing in the yard. They had the soccer ball and a hula hoop and were running through the fresh-cut grass. We were experimenting with action shots and they were also playing hide-and-go-seek with me. We're a multi-tasking group!
Anyway, during a pause in the action, I saw this. This photo is currently on exhibit at the Hudson Hospital, in the cafeteria. It's framed and printed on beautiful, soft touch Torchon paper. You could take someone to lunch and see it in person! P.S. It's also for sale.
"Trillium carpet."
They bloom for just about a week, but when they do, they carpet the forest floor in a swath of white and sometimes pink.
Trilliums are Ohio’s state wildflower, and are actually considered a perrenial herb; the green “leaves” are actually bracts. They spread by rhizome and are easy to kill if you “upset” the growth.
Facts aside, a field of trilliums under the forest canopy is my happy place. The wind in the trees and the flowers at my feet. The dog at my side. I might even write a poem!