a driftless weekend

Steve has an assignment to write an article about hazelnuts so we have been scouting hazelnut farms in Minnesota and Wisconsin. This past weekend, we drove to The Driftless Area of southwest Wisconsin to check out two farms (as a bonus for me, we also got to visit Frank LLoyd Wright’s Taliesen East in Spring Green WI). As upper midwestern natives, we already knew about the beauty of the Driftless Area, but this weekend felt different: We were gobsmacked by the tree-covered rolling hills, the tidy farms, the fertile valleys and the general beauty of the place. I think we logged over 300 miles. We saw a lot. And it never stopped impressing us. This collection of wildflowers was beside the driveway of one of the farms we scouted. The whole region was in bloom, and every single roadside was awash in wildflowers. It was a magical weekend.

For the curious, this is from Wiki:
“The Driftless Area was never covered by ice during the Last Glacial Period, so the area lacks the characteristic glacial deposits known as drift. Its landscape is characterized by steep hills, forested ridges, deeply carved river valleys, and karst geology with spring-fed waterfalls and cold-water trout streams. Ecologically, the Driftless Area’s flora and fauna are more closely related to those of the Great Lakes region and New England than those of the broader Midwest and central Plains regions.”

July 26th wildflowers from Pam Sherman’s farm in Viroqua, WI

waiting on the queen

We (Steve, Joseph, and I) have been watching the roadsides vigilantly. Joseph wants to harvest Queen Anne’s Lace seeds, so he want to catch it when it starts dying back and forming those little beautiful little baskets of seeds. Frankly, I am not sure why we are are on high alert, why he want the seeds sooner than later?? I need to ask him: is is because they are better right after the form (he plans to use them culinarily)? Or is to beat the other omnivores or the wind and rain to them?? Or is it impatience to fit in a seed harvest before he heads back to NYU for his last semester?? I will report back what I learn (Joe is on his way to Door County, Wisconsin today to harvest cherries otherwise I would ask him). In the meantime, the queen still rules the roadsides.

Queen Anne’s Lace (Daucus carota)

a different perspective

I rarely use shallow depth of field in my STILL photos. My original inspiration (on the white background) was botanical art prints, so intentional blur didn’t make sense, I wanted an accurate, almost scientific representation. The black background, however, is sort of begging for shallow depth of field. I am not sure how much I am going to heed the call. I want both my white and black work to feel like a cohesive body of work. And the shallow depth of field, just like a full page bleed, feel like something different. I have long felt that the strict constraints of STILL–found nature, minimally manipulated, no manmade objects, natural light only, bright white or pure black backgrounds–are a big part of what made STILL recognizable and ultimately successful. I share this with you to let you see into the creative process (in this case, the kind of decision making I am doing) as I feel my way into working with this still-new-to-me black background.

Out of curiosity, how you feel about the shallow focus?

echinacea/cone-flower close-up

light as a feather

The sandhill cranes are molting like crazy. The colts, which have been receiving flying lessons from mom and dad for several weeks have now both achieved lift off. And today, it appears mom and dad have shifted their emphasis to teaching the adolescents how to call (that crazy prehistoric call). I other words, it appears all their efforts are singularly focussed on getting everyone, including mom and dad, ready for the long flight south in two months: Mom and dad need feather tune replacements, the babes need to finish flying school and how to call to Mom and Dad should they become separated on the long journey. Its a time of preparation, and the stakes are high so it will take all of the next two months to get ready.

downy sandhill crane feather (about the size of my hand from finger tip to wrist)

too good to ignore

I might be the only person in the world who might look at a burdock stem with the leaves lopped off in preparation to put it in the compost bin and exclaim “don’t toss that, I want it for STILL!” I am sucker for repetition. And repetition made as very visible as it is on this stem makes my heart sing. Yes, I am very aware of how weird I am. And the older I get, the more I want to lean into that weirdness. I am not trying to be weird for weirdness sake. I am simply trying to be more me. Mostly for the sake of my art. But it seems a good goal regardless.

burdock stem (Arctium lappa)

PS My son is saving these burdock roots to use as a culinary botanical. Because weird begets weird. LOL.