I have been working on a post on orchids and stopped at this photo taken in February to study it once again. Not because of the brilliant composition or any other photographic skill. I always stop when I reach this one in my files because of the beautiful color and form. I think it will be in a very narrow category with the Jade plant (another post is coming on that one soon).
And of course it fits into Jude’s theme of “green” for her Life in Color challenge very nicely, I think.
I lived in the north long enough to know that as March nears, nerves begin to get prickly and souls are yearning for signs of spring. It could be guilt that I am in a sub-tropical local with flowers everywhere, but more likely just compassion that motivated me to search for just the perfect yellows for all of you who are currently color deprived in your environments.
Last week I spent a lot of time in the Orchid Garden at Naples Botanical Garden. It was 8 in the morning and in most places there wasn’t strong sunlight so I had lots of fun and ended up with lots of photos to filter through, delete or keep, and process. And I found lots of yellow orchids to post in response to Jude’s monthly challenge “Life in Colour: Yellow.” Use the link to join in the fun as many times as you like during the month of February.
This is my last post for Becky’s Square Perspective challenge and I’m a little late but it is still July 31 in the Eastern Time Zone of the U.S., so I can still post my most intriguing exploration of perspective. And think about what I learned through my camera.
The above square is a photo of the flower of a hens & chicks plant. I have some growing along the sidewalk in a really dry area leading to the front door. I’m not happy when they bloom because I’ve never found the flowers attractive.
I bought this single “hen” at the garden center in the spring but realized when I got home that I already had some of these with reddish leaves. I set it down in the garden thinking I would get to it later, and much later (like weeks later) I found it on the ground still not planted. My compassion for all things living compelled me to dig a hole and stuff it in. There. End of guilt.
To my surprise it bloomed just a few weeks later. No spreading, no chicks, and no attention from me. Just this one little plant with a big ugly bloom coming out of it. And I heard it begging me to take its picture as I was recording what was blooming in my late July garden. It had been a while since I worked at this type of macro photography so I decided to take a stab at using my camera to get a closer look. My aging body doesn’t do well getting down low to peer at little things close to the ground.
What a surprise when I edited photos to find how beautiful the small flowers are. There has to be a lesson here, don’t you think. If I hadn’t gotten close and intimate with this flower I didn’t like, didn’t see any beauty in, didn’t even respect or appreciate it enough to give it a proper planting – if I hadn’t taken the time to care and really look at it I wouldn’t have ever known how beautifully unique it is.