Silent Sunday: On the Edge of the Lake
The normal landscape of Michigan provides beautiful patterns – patterns that touch my soul because I have been enjoying their beauty for many, many years. They whisper my history as the wind blows through and over and around the gently rolling hills.
I took the above photo on a frosty December morning when everything was touched by frost and the weak, soft light of a sun sitting low in the southern sky. There was a brisk breeze blowing the plumbs of grass seeds so I looked for a composition that would not only show the pattern of the seed heads, but also the pattern of the wind. The pattern of the rolling hills made a pleasant background and a wood lot provided balance on the right.
As I drive down country roads, I love the patterns of newly plowed fields, rows of crops…
and especially the pattern of rows of corn stubble broken by gently rolling fields – on a misty fall morning as the sun is coming up. The hard part is finding a safe place to pull over to find the perfect composition of patterns and then to have enough height to see over the first hill to the second and third.
I created this post in response to the 2020 Photo Challenge. The February theme is focused on the technique of using patterns.
As I turn into the Naples Botanical Garden, there is a small pond to my left that catches the early morning light. It has always drawn me in – sometimes calling to me, wanting me to pull in the parking lot to the right, used by employees and volunteers, and walk over with my camera. I would take some photos, but most of them didn’t last through the winnowing processes.
When I returned this fall, it had been landscaped, or more accurately, “waterscaped.” Three large pillars had been added, with small waterfalls so the sound of water made music with the morning sun dancing across the surface of the water. Grasses and lilies had been added or maybe some of them had been there all along but the stone pillars gave them more importance in their supporting roles.
I lingered, even though I felt the pull of the garden. And I think I will have stop again on my next visit.