Seeds represent such a poignant moment in the continuum between life and death. The plant, investing the last of its energy in this latent progeny, releasing all of tomorrow’s hopes to the care of the wind.
I’ve been taking the same picture of Sawyer scooping tadpoles at the sandpit, reflected in the pond, every year since he was three. This time, his great-uncle Barry joined in on the fun. There is a Norman Rockwell kind of nostalgia and timelessness to this image that always makes me smile.
Just realized today’s post completes the sandpit trilogy! There is a lake at the cabin too (!) but the sandpit never disappoints for natural oddities; it’s very much this otherworldly mini-ecosystem in the midst of the north woods.
I love today’s photo because:
1) I don’t know what any of these things are;
2) This whole potpourri of life forms – nothing more than an inch or two tall – exemplifies the rewards of looking at the world;
3) It resembles a coral reef – diverse and beautiful, piled and intermingled, and teeming with life.
Photographic wisdom states that the best conditions for taking pictures involve a bright, overcast sky. While sunshine seems like it makes everything pretty, it actually washes out colors and casts harsh shadows that don’t look great in pictures.
But on this day, the sun was shining and the sandpit is like an expanse of desert; there was no way around shooting in full, blinding sunlight. Then, while I examined my options, I suddenly realized that the shadows themselves were really interesting and rather than avoiding (or cursing) them, I started seeking them out as subjects.