No Worse For The Wear

I love old things. Don't get me wrong, I love new things too. But I really really love old things. It's the same sort of pleasure I find in dilapidated barns, loosely strung barb-wire fences with the posts all akimbo, rusty weather vanes, old tractors, and well used gardening tools. I found this little lock holding a display case closed at Bodega Bay. For those of you who do not know where Bodega Bay is, it's in the Bay Area of Northern California. If you are planning a trip to San Fransisco, do yourself a favor and spend a day driving north over the bridge into Marin county. There you will find a treasure trove of little cities and pastoral vistas. I realize this is a far cry from the excitement of the typical San Fran pleasures but it is worth it. The drive between Petaluma and Bodega Bay is particularly wonderful with big trees, wide open pastures in shades of greeen, fluffy sheep and sleepy cows.

This lock is worn by wind, rain, and salt water but it still is doing exactly what it was intended for. It's kind of beautiful in it's dishabille with the flakey burnt-shades of rust, the blue that has faded into the lightest of sky blue, and the silver hinge that has withstood the elements a little better. What draws me back to this picture over and over is the texture in the rust. How amazing that oxygenating metal could produce such a beautiful but corrosive combination. I'm not sure if this lock has been opened in years, but I would like to imagine that if someone had a reason to open it, that it would spring open like a newly sprung lock. That may be a little optimistic, but perhaps.

This photo was taken on President's Day weekend in 2010 with my handy-dandy Canon DSLR and macro lens. Flash was used because it got quite overcast and cloudy. In Ligthroom, I deepened the contrasts and saturated the blue levels.

As always, if you like this print and would be interested in more information click here.

Pinecone in the Needles

This photo reminds me of the high, cool, dry pine forest in the Rocky Mountain ranges. Even right now as I am writing this I can imagine the feel of brisk air rushing over my wind-chapped face. How it feels to suck in a lungful of thin, pure air so fresh that it makes my eyes water and my chest ache. The distict smell of pine needles in a shady grove of lodgepole, ponderosa, and spruce. The sweet, earthy smell of damp underbrush and shadows. The wonder of walking from the shade into a golden meadow with waist high grass and scrub. The teardrop leaves of the aspen quaking and rustling in the breeze. The pink and gray granite boulders scattered over the hills like marbles thrown from a giant. The pungent smell of sage and grease-wood. It makes me miss home.

As much as this reminds me of Wyoming, it was actually taken in San Diego's wonderful Balboa Park. It was taken in mid-December with my trusty macro, probably while one of my friends was waiting as I took a "walk-about" through the bushes because I was distracted by something shiny...or in this case something small. I added a watermark but made no other modifications in Adobe Lightroom. Some pictures are gems that need polished but this one came out perfectly without help.

Click here for the Pinecone Print on Etsy.

Unless...

 

And all that the Lorax left here in this mess
was a small pile of rocks, with one word...
"UNLESS."
Whatever that meant, well, I just couldn't guess.

That was long, long ago.
But each day since that day
I've sat here and worried and worried away.
Through the years, while my buildings have fallen apart,
I've worried about it with all of my heart.
"But now," says the Once-ler, "Now that you're here,
the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear.
 

UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
nothing is going to get better. It's not.

"SO... Catch!" calls the Once-ler. He lets something fall.
"It's a Truffula Seed. It's the last one of all!
You're in charge of the last of the Truffula Seeds.
And Truffula Trees are what everyone needs.
Plant a new Truffula.Treat it with care.
Give it clean water. And feed it fresh air.
Grow a forest. Protect it from axes that hack.
Then the Lorax and all of his friends may come back."

I took this picture in the Botanical Gardens in Balboa Park. I'm not exactly sure what plant these seed pods are from but when I saw them I thought, "Oh my heck, I found the Truffula seeds!" I love these little pink seeds. I love how furry they are. I love how the pods are a little yellow. I love how the background is black. I love, love, LOVE everything about it.

The thing that I love the most about it is that it reminds me that like the Lorax says, "UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not." In the past few weeks I have been noticing the small things that people do to show they care 'a whole awful lot' and it really does change things. When people are dedicated to doing their best in whatever it is they are doing then others get caught up in that enthusiasm. I was walking along the sidewalk and noticed the mason had stamped their emblem into it, which once was a common sight but is becoming less and less so. I them mused to myself that to mark a tiny sidewalk with your company's emblem then your company must have taken pride in the work that went into that sidewalk, even though it was only one house long in a janky part of town. To see others taking care and pride in the smallest parts of their jobs makes me want to take more care in my job, my relationships, my hobbies. As some of you know, I am quite impulsive and sometimes I want to hurry through life instead of slowing down and doing things correctly. I need to take time to treasure the little things, be more careful in my speech to my students, and slow down instead of rushing through discussions and decisions. 

Here are the technical aspects: Canon Digital SLR with macro lens. Touch-up was done with Adobe Lightroom 3, I darked the contrast, lightened part of the stem that was in dark shadow, and made the pinks a little more saturated. I think if I were to do it again I would darken the front seed pod's colors a little more...my skills with free-handing the contrast levels are basic...working towards mastery. 

Sunshine On A Rainy Day

This picture is of a delightfully yellow ranuncula. It was taken in early March 2011, in my garden. One of my passions is gardening. I love growing things, even more than just growing things, I love taking pictures of things I am growing. On any day at about 6:30, you can find me in the yard watering plants in sweats, flip-flops, and a old t-shirt. I love, love, love the "golden hour" of the day. The time of day when twilight is just around the corner, the shadows are long, and the light for photography is perfect. All of the day's worries melt away. It's the time that I unwind and enjoy the quiet of the flies buzzing, water drops on broad pumpkin leaves, and the earthy smell of compost and peat.

Our big project in March was adding four more raised beds to our growing garden plot. One of these beds we dedicated to the flowers that we love; poppies, ranunculas, daisies, cosmos, and sweet william. This flower is in that flower bed. This photo was taken during that special golden hour, after the watering. As the background suggests the dark was falling quickly. It was taken with my macro lens, no flash. I used Adobe Lightroom to add the watermark, but did not change any of the other values.

The thing that I love the most about this photo is how the dew drops are formed on the foremost leaf. I also like that the background is so very dark; it makes the yellow so sharp and clean. I like ranunculas, but I don't like how quickly they open to full blossom and then you can see the weird pointed middle stem inside (in my opinion, poppies have much cuter full blossoms). This picture was taken the day before this particular flower went into full bloom; perfect timing, perfect lightening, perfect little dew drops.


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