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.
Have you noticed that people find comments or jokes funny depending on their perspective? If we are the butt of the joke, it can be hard to laugh. I keep people close who have a kind and gentle sense of humor – those able to find humor in the things that we do that don’t make sense. I love finding humor in the way words are put together or used in ways that have unintended meaning.
This is a response to BeckyB’s July Challenge of Squares – Perspective.
It seems like finding a photo that reflects “simplicity” would be simple. Every topic I considered seemed to reflect complexity rather than simplicity. Part of my problems seemed to be confusing simplicity with uncomplicated. I came across some old barns in my files (more likely to happen than not with the large number that I’ve taken) and I was tempted to use one, but barns aren’t simple. Their construction is complex along with maintaining them. And farming doesn’t seem to be for the faint hearted.
I settled on this dew-dropped grass because it seems so simple. Oh wait, ours is getting long up in Michigan and our lawn guy e-mailed saying it is growing but he can’t get to it because of the covid-19 stay at home order. And we are stuck in Florida for now so can’t mow it ourselves.
Maybe I’ll just have a simple supper tonight but not post it. Even that would be simpler if Jim were cooking.
Anyway, I had a chuckle or two as I did this simple post for Lens-Artist Photo Challenge #91: Simplicity. A new challenge should be posted tomorrow. Maybe it will be “Complexity” – now that should be a simple one to do.
My mood is foul this morning so I went to the files of photos taken at the Naples Botanical Garden through the middle of March when the garden closed to visitors. I thought I would post something cheery. Maybe I’m assuming everyone else is as grumpy as I am, or maybe I am hoping I can cheer myself up in the process.
The first photo in the file of my last visit is the one above. I remember taking it as the early morning sun was reflecting off the ripples on the water’s surface, making stripes on the foliage of some water iris. The solitude of the early morning garden, the poetry of a quiet breeze punctuated by bird calls, the cool air with a promise of warm sun are captured in this somewhat messy still-life, a reflection of a somewhat messy real-life. This photo was a strong contender – it reflected calm and peace.
I thought of using a photo of the water iris, but went right by them – they just seemed too cheery for this morning. Besides the front leaves were out of focus and this grated on my nerves – so I looked in an earlier file for some photos that I knew were technically better. They were nicely done but still too cheery, so none made the cut.
I quickly scrolled through the other photos, but none emitted the emotions I wanted to share with you… until I reached the last one. I lingered on this image, the same way I did when I first downloaded it. It exudes a sense of grace and beauty. There is a natural beauty to this orchid that I couldn’t improve with post-processing. As my eye travels around the composition it brings me a sense of peace and well-being, almost making my grumpiness fade into the background (if you look closely you can see it in the upper, left-hand corner).
Deciding which one to use is really difficult. I guess I’ll get a glass of water, take my morning pills, and finish up the masks I’m sewing.
Please stay safe and stay well.