I glanced up from photographing the daffodil to spot this nuthatch scampering down the trunk of a pecan tree across the road. Quickly, without much thought, I snapped this picture. And then he was gone….
Feb 212014
Feb 212014
This is another image from my daffodil photo-shoot earlier today. The sun was low in the sky, shining through the corona, as if the daffodil had captured the sunlight within its core.
Feb 212014
I set out for Piney Woods Church late on a sunny afternoon, with one goal in mind. A daffodil beside a fence at the road edge was finally in bloom (I had scoped it out on a dog walk a short time before). My goal was to find a way to photograph it that would make it interesting. Dandelions and daffodils are much-welcomed signs of spring; they are also ubiquitous, floral equivalents of pigeons in a city square.
I spent half an hour with that daffodil, using my plus four and plus ten macro lenses. I took over sixty photos. I am not even sure which one I was using for the one below — the plus ten, I think. It is my favorite shot — and angle one rarely gets to take in a botanical garden, lying down and gazing upward.
Feb 202014
On a gray, slightly foggy morning, I arrived at Piney Woods Church Road with the particular intent of photographing a daffodil bud that I had seen (for the first time this year) the previous day. I quickly got down to work, shooting the leaves and flower bud from various angles, taking over 30 different pictures. At last, satisfied that there would be something of value to show for my efforts, I stood up and looked into the field beyond the roadside barbed-wire fence. A dozen feet away from me were two more daffodils, already flowering! The pasture also contained over a dozen cows, one of which was obligingly grazing beyond where the daffodils grew. The result is this image, a cow dining among the daffodils. (Since the cows avoid eating daffodils, the plants have been flourishing here for many years.)
Feb 192014
There was still sufficient water in the Piney Woods Church Road drainage ditch this afternoon to allow for another round of reflection photographs. I find this particular image almost otherworldly: a bent-over grass stem is mirrored in the still water in the silvery late-day light….
Feb 182014
On a mild but overcast afternoon in late winter, I pause at a drainage ditch halfway down Piney Woods Church Road. In my camera, I capture the peculiar world of the water surface — dappled and silvery, a mysterious looking glass containing tree branches, ripples, and strands of grass, bound together by liquid and light.
Feb 172014
A single red water oak leaf in the morning sunlight, viewed against the forest background along Piney Woods Church Road: the image resolves itself into three spaces, like three lines of haiku.
Feb 162014
I feel that a post is warranted in appreciation of the trio of friendly and inquisitive cows that greet me nearly every time I walk down Piney Woods Church Road. Sometimes, one or more will dash over to where I am, practically galloping, if a cow can gallop. They seem eager to find out what I am up to or, more likely, whether I might have brought them a snack today. Before this project, I rarely thought of cows, and tended to ignore them grazing in a field as I would drive or walk past them. Lately, I have come to find their company quite pleasant.
Feb 162014
The roadside ditches along Piney Woods Church Road are drying up. Until the next rainfall, there won’t be much possibility of reflection photography after today, so I availed myself of the opportunity by taking dozens of images. The “first place” winner, in my wife’s keen judgment, is this monochromatic image of grasses and a leaf. I read somewhere that there are no straight lines in nature; that certainly does not hold for this photograph, where the grasses parallel each other or cross at near-perpendicular. Looking at this picture, I am reminded of what I know of angles, from geometry and physics. Vertical angles are equal. The angles in a triangle sum to 180 degrees. The angle of incidence is equal to the angle of reflection.
Feb 152014
On several late afternoons this year, I have walked past these grasses rustling in the wind, and have been reminded of Tibetan prayer flags flying. According to Timothy Clark of Radiant Heart, “Prayer flags are simple devices that, coupled with the natural energy of the wind, quietly harmonize the environment, impartially increasing happiness and good fortune among all living beings.” Like prayer flags, these golden grasses catch the light of heaven and bring it into my presence along the road. My joy is greater for encountering them on my journey.
