A S C R A P B O O K O F S O L U T I O N S F O R T H E P H O T O G R A P H E R
Enhancing the enjoyment of taking pictures with news that matters, features that entertain and images that delight. Published frequently.
20 October 2023
Vast as the Pacific Ocean is, comforting as its unchanging presence may be, there is nothing quite like unlocking your back door and stepping out into the wild world of one's own garden.
With the temperature hitting the 80s this week, making the house intolerable, we took refuge in the garden's afternoon shade with a glass of white wine. If you sit still long enough, we've learned, the world will come to you.
A small bird skirted around the perimeter pecking at the dirt. The bees were back in force to work on the rosemary bush and the lemon tree. And a squirrel interested in surveying the territory kept a wary eye on the tired man with the glass of wine.
We didn't take any photographs because, well, we were holding that glass of wine and we are a two-fisted photographer.
But the next morning after we'd put up a Horn and just before we got down to business, we slipped out the back door with the Nikon D200 (with its original battery) and our unrepaired 18-200mm Nikkor.
A neighbor's rose, protruding over the top of the fence as if it were a dance movement, caught our eye. That was all it took to get us going.
We were also amused by some other intruders along the side fence. Blossoms seeking the sun a bit earlier than the rest of the bush. And how the light fell on a nascent calla lily.
There's nothing special about those images or the others. The rusted furniture, the tiny apples, the rosemary bush, the broken pot, the old sprinkler head. Even the poppy that closes the show.
But we loved the morning light that fell on these weathered occupants of the garden. It seemed to renew them. So we lined them up and took their portraits.
If they are not as spectacular a subject as the Pacific Ocean seen from the cliffs, they are nevertheless a universe of their own.