Apr 192014
 

A long day and night of rain had finally ended, and in the cloud-light of late morning, the Piney Woods Church Road landscape felt saturated with rich colors — mostly shades of green, but occasional patches of bluish-purple where the wisteria blossoms hung.  On my way back down the road — typically a time in which I take few photos, relishing the things I had already encountered — I was drawn to this lone wisteria blossom.  Most of the wisteria flowers bloom in long, dense clusters; this one was a single bloom, by itself.  I felt compelled to photograph it, even though I had already dismissed wisteria as “adequately photographed”.  The result is somehow entrancing, like a suspended dance of color and form….

One

 

Apr 182014
 

What a cold, rainy day it was — more suggestive of March in Georgia than the second half of April.  During most of my walk, I kept my camera ensconced in a plastic Ziploc™ bag, which led to some intriguing, dreamy images that I will post separately.  On my way back home, I stopped at a drainage ditch to catch this photograph of grasses and raindrop circles.

Raincircles

Apr 172014
 

Today’s featured photograph is another image in a category that has become a series now, roadbed still lifes.  I turned the corner from Rico Road onto Piney Woods Church Road, and was immediately captivated by this fallen sweetgum leaf, in a found composition with a catkin (probably oak).  The title of this image refers to the star-shaped leaves of the sweetgum tree (Liquidambar styraciflua).

A Fallen Star

Apr 162014
 

A few minutes shy of sunset, I lay prone on the slope of the ditch at the end of Piney Woods Church Road, trying to capture a few wildflowers in the golden late-day light.  On a whim, I placed my camera on the ground and aimed the lens up through the base of the grasses growing there.  The result was this enchanting silhouette.

Twilight Approaching

 

Apr 152014
 

On a raw, rainy, windy morning I set out down Piney Woods Church Road looking for new images, new windows into wonder.  I battled the wind for most of my journey; I would frame a photograph of a flower or leaf, only to have it start to sway in a suddenly-renewed gust.  Ultimately, my favorite three pictures from the journey (this one and two in a subsequent post) were successful because they were relatively unaffected by the wind.  This wild strawberry (Fragaria virginiana) was blooming in a ditch near Rico Road, sheltered from the elements.  I glimpsed it from above, as I was peering down into the ditch, and I was immediately drawn to take its picture.  I cannot wait to search here for strawberries, later in the season.  I can almost taste them on my tongue as I type these words.

Wild Strawberry

Apr 142014
 

Not long after I set out for Piney Woods Church Road, the rains began.  I was ill-equipped for a deluge, having left my camera bag at home (trusting too much in Doppler radar maps which showed precipitation still an hour away).  I quickly focused my attention on certain shots — mostly particular wildflowers I noticed in bloom.  Fortunately, the rainfall remained fairly gentle, though it didn’t prevent me from getting fairly soaked.  Toward the end of my walk, my camera still functioning and my body rather drenched, I eased up a bit and began letting images find me.  This is one of the products of that last part of my walk.  Droplets cover a new sweetgum leaf that hangs like a curtain in front of the road I have just walked.

Rain on Sweetgum

Apr 132014
 

I arrived early to Piney Woods Church Road, perhaps an hour after sunrise, before delivering a presentation on the Piney Woods Church Road Project to a Sunday interfaith group at Serenbe community here in Chattahoochee Hills.  Along the verge near the intersection with Hutcheson Ferry Road, I glimpsed an unfamiliar pale-yellow wildflower with four petals.  The petals were somewhat folded up; I assumed at the time that they were just opening.  In fact, after an hour of scouring the field guides and internet, the flower turned out to be a cutleaf evening primrose (Oenothera laciniata), an early-blooming member of its genus that is common to waste places throughout the eastern United States.  As the name suggests, its flower close during the day, opening fully only in the dark of night.  Had I arrived at the roadside later in the day, I would have likely overlooked the closed flower altogether.  Although some might consider it merely a weed, for me it was a gift of those early morning hours.

Evening Primrose

Apr 122014
 

Since I began this project over 100 days ago, I have photographed one subject far more than any other:  a black metal mailbox with one side covered with lichens, located about halfway down Piney Woods Church Road.  I am quite fond of lichens, and have even gone on several field excursions with a renowned lichenologist, Sean Q. Beeching.  I have seen many lichens covering tree branches, growing on rock, and even living deep within some rocks.  But I have never seen lichens covering a metal object before.  It was enough of an oddity that it captured my attention early on in the year.  Knowing it would make a worthy image, I would often stop to photograph it just in case none of my other images for the day worked out.  Each time I would take maybe three or four photographs of the same mailbox, from different camera positions and orientations.  Yet I always found something else to celebrate that day, and the lichens were always left behind.  Today, it seems fitting to pause and appreciate them.  I admire their tenacity for managing to get a toehold on this mailbox, and enduring in all sorts of weather.  And I thank the mailbox owner for letting them be, rather than scraping them off and painting over the metal, or replacing the mailbox with a shiny new one.  These lichens greet me everyday as I pass them, and I am grateful for their presence on my journey.

I'm Lichen It Here

Apr 102014
 

I lie prone on the damp ground, gazing through a camera lens at drops of dew clinging to blades of grass in the sunlight.  The ground sparkles with minute mirrors, inviting me to pause and reflect.  It is Day 100, and I am part-way along Piney Woods Church Road, on my journey home.

Mirrors of the Morning