The chartreuse seed pods adorn the birch branches like long, dangling earrings. Sawyer used to think there were caterpillars all over the sidewalk after the seed pods fell. He was always sorely disappointed to learn the truth. But I like everything about a birch, faux caterpillars and all.
A photo from the road, somewhere in the middle of Iowa. Have you heard this song before? If not, I recommend it.
This is how it starts…
I’ve never had a way with women, but the hills of Iowa make me wish that I could,
And I’ve never found a way to say I love you, but if the chance came by, oh I, I would.
But way back where I come from, we never mean to bother,
We don’t like to make our passions other people’s concern,
And we walk in the world of safe people, and at night we walk into our houses and burn.
– from Iowa by Dar Williams, (on iTunes)
The snowfalls have all been picture-perfect this winter. The snow that came in the night outlined every branch in white. Then the sun came up, and cast a peachy glow on everything it touched. I dropped the snow shovel and ran for my camera before the moment passed.
I have been known to sing the praises of my fair city. And this is why: just look at that picture – isn’t she beautiful?
But she’s not just another pretty face.
Not far from this picturesque stand of trees there are rivers you can kayak, a giant waterfall and several lakes and bike trails as well as brew pubs, bakeries, arts galore, an awesome place for gelato, and an international airport.
What I love about where I live is that my kids can cross paths with wild turkeys on the way to the museum or listen to street musicians not far from the creek where they scoop minnows. It’s a good balance that, to me, feels like having my cake and eating it too.
Plus, when it snows, she looks just like an angel.
They say photography is as much about what you leave out of the composition as it is about what you leave in…
Today’s photo is a giddy celebration of negative space; it has loads to do with the pure, white backdrop of fresh snow and the total absence of any visual clutter – a luxury seldom enjoyed in my mostly-urban photosphere.
I love the starkness and intensity of that solitary branch perched so lightly and isolated in such an expanse of emptiness that it appears to float.
Freshly fallen snow reveals good bones and sketches bold abstract compositions in graphic black and white . Like light itself, the snow infuses the forest with a magical glow. It highlights individual forms even while bringing everything together in harmony, connected in a continuous field of white.