Apr 292014
 

Today on my walk along Piney Woods Church Road, I encounter a purple bull thistle (Cirsium vulgare) just coming into bloom, nestled in a grassy ditch, as if trying to hide from passersby.  I expect it will not last long there; the resident and dear friend who owns that property is not at all fond of them, because the seeds disperse widely and readily, and invariably the plant crops up in his horse pastures.  But for this moment, this Eurasian flower adds a lovely splash of color to an otherwise rather barren spot of ground, and I pause to enjoy its prickly form against the surrounding grasses, roadway, and sky.

Bull Thistle

Apr 282014
 

I set out down Piney Woods Church late this afternoon with lifted spirits, following an encouraging note from a friend, reminding me that all the changes I saw yesterday will soon be undone by nature, in the form of rain, wind, and new growth.  Meanwhile, I discovered all sorts of possibilities for photographs today.  The image I selected is a close-up of the point where the leaf of a vine connected to the main stem.  It marks a confluence, where all of the veins in the leaf come together.  Also at the join, two long trendrils emerge from the plant, helping it to climb over any obstacles and cling to anything in its path.  Most likely, the plant is one of two possible species (both invasive) in the genus Discorea:  either the air-potato (Discorea bulbifera) from Africa, or the Chinese yam (Discorea oppositifolia) from Asia.  The two are difficult to distinguish (my bets are on the Chinese yam), but both plants are considered highly invasive.

One thing I have noticed from all my explorations of roadside plants is that most of them are non-native, and they harken from a variety of homelands.  Many are from Europe, but others are from parts of Asia or even Africa.  I am coming to realize that a rural Georgia back road can be a much more cosmopolitan place than I had previously imagined.

Confluence

Apr 272014
 

My afternoon walk down Piney Woods Church Road was an experience in letting go.  The road has been regraded — it is wider than ever before, and all the potholes and ruts are, for now, absent.  Along the roadside, it seemed as if everyone with a mower was out in force this weekend.  What was yesterday morning a sea of self-heal weeds along the road was, today, just a band of short grass with a couple of self-heal remaining that somehow escaped the blade.  The air was close and the sky gray, but not a gray that betokened the arrival of dramatic weather yet (on Tuesday, though, quite possibly).  I was in the grips of a head cold, my first illness since ten days in a hospital with pneumonia last September.  And there was practically nothing to photograph.

I settled, at last, for this image, conveying well the transience of all things.  A fallen petal of flowering dogwood rests on a Chinese wisteria leaf.  The dogwood and wisteria are both past blooming now.

Fallen Petal

Apr 262014
 

Without intention to do so, I found myself yet again this morning photographing the play of morning sunlight and green leaves.  There is so much possibility here, in the ways the early morning and late-day sun illuminate, for a brief moment, a particular leaf or plant.  The light calls to me — there is so much to wonder at that I had never noticed before.  In this particular moment captured in this image, a misshapen hickory (mockernut?) leaf catches the sunlight and becomes a form of beauty and delight.

Moment

Apr 252014
 

Patience rewarded me at last.  After hearing a bird making the same insistent brief call from the foliage, I spent several minutes trying to locate the source.  At last, I found a small, rather elusive brown bird, skipping from spot to spot among the branches of vines and trees.  I was able to snap a couple of quick photographs before the bird disappeared from sight.  My wife informed me that it was almost certainly a wren, and my Birds of Georgia field guide photograph of a Carolina Wren (Thryothorus ludovicianus) is nearly an exact match.  The Carolina Wren is a cavity-nesting bird that resides year-round in Georgia.

Carolina Wren

Apr 242014
 

Early this morning I set out down Piney Woods Church Road.  Again and again, I was drawn to the play of shadow and light among the leaves of roadside shrubs and trees.  In this image, the saw-toothed edge of a hickory leaf (mockernut, I think) stands out sharply against the surrounding darkness, like the first burst of sunrise a couple of hours before.

The Edge of Morning

 

Apr 232014
 

The wisteria blooms are all spent now, save for a few shriveled flower petals that haven’t yet fallen onto the roadway.  Yet, for all its aggressiveness, Chinese wisteria also offers moments of dazzling beauty.  Even after the flowers are gone, the leaves still captivate me, illuminated by late afternoon light.  They glow like the finest stained glass, turning a rural lane into a chapel for contemplating the cosmos.

Illuminated

Apr 222014
 

I set out down Piney Woods Church Road this morning still carrying the heavy burden of the recent news of a much-loved local store’s plans to close in May.  Although clouds and storms are expected this afternoon, the morning sky was mostly clear and the sun angling its light through the trees.  Again I was drawn to explore the possibilities of the morning light, this time bathing tulip poplar leaves.  I think it would be fitting to refer to these moments of wonder that I find with my camera lens as moments of grace.  I am gratefull that a digital camera enables me to share these moments with others.

Moments of Grace

 

Apr 212014
 

I was feeling bereft today, walking down Piney Woods Church Road, still digesting the sad and unexpected news that my favorite local hangout, a charming old-time general store, will be closing next month.  For most of my walk, wherever I glanced, the magic seemed drained from the landscape.  The wisteria blooms had withered, and all the giant red thistles, just beginning to blossom, had been uprooted by a landowner (understandably — it is a pernicious weed) along the roadside.  Some of my favorite haunts to look for wildflowers had been mowed in the last day or two.  I wondered if I would find anything inviting.  That is when I saw the blooming heal-all (Prunella vulgaris), a common introduced lawn weed throughout North America.  The late-day sun, low on the horizon, offered intriguing photographic possibilities.  The result, after a few minutes of exploration, is this sunlight striking a heal-all flower.  There is a radiance in this image that gives me cause for hope, at such a dark time.  There is solace to be found in nature, if we pause long enough to let it find us.

Healing Light

Addendum, May 22, 2014:  Here is another photograph of the self-heal from the same day’s images. I like it so much that I recently had it printed and mounted on bamboo by Plywerk, Inc. of Portland, Oregon.

Self-Heal

Apr 202014
 

For several days, I have been trying, without success, to capture an interesting image of the white clover (Trifolium repens) now blooming along the edge of a field along Piney Woods Church Road.  Introduced from Europe, this member of the pea family is now common across North America.  So easily overlooked, in this photo white clover shines as the star of the rural landscape.

Field Clover