Four images
Queen Anne’s Lace, Potawatomi Park, Door County.
Same flower, but different setting, different quality of light and fifty miles from my own bevy of Queens.
Oh, yes. Through the grapevine.
Six images from a very unplanned series taken in Potawatomi Park on Monday afternoon.
I was planning to shoot some wildflowers in a small meadow and was just warming up by taking random snaps along a weathered fence.
Of course, then I started to get into it–I mean–who could resist those gorgeous red corkscrews?
In the end, I skipped the meadow. I already had what I’d come for.
Door County, Wisconsin.
Motion blur, light manipulation (and, really–isn’t that what photography is all about?) or, as I think of it: light scraping. Pulling out the details and leaving an impression of light and color. Whatever it is, I can’t shake my fascination with trees and reeds and other lovely upright botanical marvels shot in this impressionistic style.
You do not want to be driving in the woods with me. Trust me.
Five images
Some pipe dreams…or dreamy pipes. More from Bay Shipbuilding in Sturgeon Bay.
“The tides of time should be able to imprint the passing of the years on an object. The physical decay or natural wear and tear of the materials used does not in the least detract from the visual appeal, rather it adds to it. It is the changes of texture and colour that provide the space for the imagination to enter and become more involved with the devolution of the piece.”
Andrew Juniper, Wabi Sabi: The Japanese Art of Impermanence
Five images, best viewed at full size.
I have the suspicion that my muses arrived at the shipyard several hours ahead of me and staged countless perfectly balanced scenes for my photographing pleasure.
For example:
and
The arc of the pipe above is purely wonderful and its cool silver looks elegant against the flat gunmetal gray. What I didn’t see until I was reviewing my shots at home was the cryptic scrawl “God is.
If there was more to that message, I missed it. On the other hand, perhaps it is such a profound sentiment that it needs no other words. Enough said.
The entire yard is filled with ship parts patiently waiting to be assembled (or reassembled) into fully-functioning freighters and barges and, as you can see in this next shot, carefully labelled. I can only imagine that, when the time is right, all those pieces are fitted together like a sea-going Rubik’s Cube.
My personal favorite. It would appear that original measurements have been crossed out and reworked, leaving the impression that the barge has been covered with runes:
Oh, wait. This is a favorite as well:
Once each year, Bay Shipbuilding opens a portion of its 55-acre yard to the public as a fundraiser for the local Rotary Club. Tours are conducted by Rotarians and at each stop, retired shipyard workers talk about equipment, procedures, and the ships built and serviced at the shipyard. Access is certainly prescribed and ships are off-limits but it is nonetheless a golden opportunity to see the mysteries behind the chain link fence.
And, you are guaranteed to learn amazing things, but you need to listen carefully. I was puzzled when our guide told us we were on our way to the “gravy dock” (company cafeteria? “Belly up to the roast turkey bar, boys.”) until I finally tumbled that he was saying “graving dock.”
Graving dock. Ahhh…
The blue gantry crane that I’ve shown you many times is the largest in the U.S. The operator is 135 feet off the ground, reaches his perch via elevator, and there is no bathroom up there. Someone asked the gnarly old shipyard guy about how fuel reached the engine, located on top of the crane.
“Five gallon gas cans,” he said solemnly. “”Every time someone goes up, they bring a can with them. As you can imagine, it’s a slow process.”
He could only fake solemn for ten seconds before he broke down into a gnarly old guy chortle.
No one can gnarly-chortle like an old guy.
*** *** ***
This is the Arthur M Anderson, a 767 foot long Great Lakes freighter built in 1952 as a part of the US Steel fleet. The Anderson‘s claim to fame? In 1975, she was the last ship to be in contact with the Edmund Fitzgerald and the first rescue ship on the scene.
Let’s close with a little Gordon Lightfoot and The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K6DUFPNILvM
Tomorrow: Shipyard “Found Art” and a Wabi Sabi tale of woe.