Archive for the ‘Rain’ Category

The second night anchored on a sandbar near the bridge in Winona, Minnesota.

The thunderstorm rolled in around midnight. Loud! Holy Mother of Pearl! Had you told me cannons were firing from the upper deck, I would have believed you.

The only cannons firing, though, were mine.

Okay…Canons, not cannons.

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There was no way to go out on the deck to shoot, though…not unless I wanted to sacrifice my equipment to the storm so I spent my time running back and forth from the front of the boat to my berth, shooting through the glass and playing with colors and focus. Lovely jagged bolts of lightening would have been splendid, but this wasn’t that kind of storm. The sky kept blowing up all blue-white which was enormously cool to watch, but not much for photographic drama.

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Eventually, I ran out of shots to take, stowed the cameras and climbed into bed. By positioning myself just so, I was able to fall asleep to the sounds of thunder, wind, and driving rain while keeping the bridge in sight.

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This makes my short list of Best Nights Ever.

GENTLE RAIN

Posted: July 7, 2016 in 60mm lens, My Backyard, Photography, Rain

It rained this afternoon, insistently for a while, but then it settled in to a soft and gentle sprinkle.

Gentle enough, as a matter of fact, that I went out and shot some lovely hostas in the rain.

And one Solomon’s Seal.

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Lily of the Valley, after her morning shower. No flowers yet, but some tightly-held promises that she will grace us with delicate white blooms within the next few days.

Click on any image to view the gallery as a slideshow.

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One more post from an after-rain walk in the woods. Four images, no chatter.

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Behold how this drop of seawater
has taken so many forms and names;

it has existed as mist, cloud, rain, dew, and mud,
then plant, animal, and Perfect man;
and yet it was a drop of water
from which these things appeared.
Even so this universe of reason, soul, heavens, and bodies,
was but a drop of water in its beginning and ending.”

A Drop of Seawater by the Sufi poet Al Shabistari

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We’ll return to the dill weed tomorrow.

Five images

I do believe that an elegant match for Queen Anne has been discovered in the garden.

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Oh my gosh! I just realized that I could stage a production of “Wicked” right in my very own backyard using flowers instead of sock puppets! Quickly…begin humming “Defying Gravity” as you continue to read.

If you have not met before, or if you are not familiar with our glamorous subject for today’s post, may I present the delightful Miss Anethum Graveolens.

Dill, to her friends.

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Amazing, yes? If your familiarity with dill begins and ends with Kosher Dills, these shots of flowering dill should be a lovely surprise.

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As a bonus, today’s portraits were taken right after a storm, so Ms Graveolens appears appropriately bejeweled.

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If I might make technical small talk for a moment, these were shot with such a shallow depth of field that there is generally only one point that is in perfect focus, with the rest of the picture fading off into a soft blur. This might not be to everyone’s liking, particularly if you are someone who prefers a crisp clean edge-to-edge focus, but I like the resulting dreamy effect it produces with some flowers.

 

 Why? Because, as I have pointed out to you many, many times, I am a woman easily amused.

On Jones Island, the discovery of giant piles of SOMETHING, swathed in acres of heavy plastic. I was loving the plastic, all shiny with interesting folds and wrinkles and the weights placed properly over it all. 

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And wet. Remember wet, because it was raining. I’m not sure why, but the rain seemed to provide a compelling reason for me to get out of the car to shoot.

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I assume that there are many among you who regularly drive for two hours in order to hang around in industrial areas and take two dozen pictures of plastic-dressed mystery piles whilst standing in the rain.

Anyone?

Anyone?

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And what were those mountains of heavy plastic tarp hiding? This was a great cosmic puzzle until we drove down a road BEHIND the mystery piles.

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 This salt pile, a mountain of lovely blues, yellows and whites, reminded me of the paintings of Lawren Harris, a member of Canada’s Group of Seven. I can remember visiting the McMichael Center north of Toronto years ago, eager to finally see Harris’s “Pic Island” in person. I knew it was big, but I hadn’t realized that it filled one wall. When I walked into the room where it hung, my eyes did a cartoon pop and “boing!” and I ended up just sitting on a bench in front of the painting, unable to leave the room for a long while. For a look at some of Harris’s work, follow the link below.

http://www.wikiart.org/en/lawren-harris/pic-island-lake-superior-1924