…and after

i posted the before of this photo when those flowers were still tight torpedo buds. so is seemed only fitting to post them in their full trumpeting glory.

lily flowers in full bloom (Lilium)

leaden? not at all

According to wiki: “The compound leaves of this plant appear leaden (the reason for the common name “leadplant”) due to their dense hairiness.” well, they don’t look leaden to me. they look alive and vital. sentient even. definitely vegetal. not mineral.

leadplant leaves (Amorpha canescens)

bittersweet

i just finished reading the book bittersweet by susan cain. according to the author, “bittersweetness is a tendency to states of long­ing, poignancy, and sorrow; an acute aware­ness of passing time; and a curiously piercing joy at the beauty of the world. it recognizes that light and dark, birth and death—bitter and sweet—are forever paired.”  so it is with this idea in mind that i share with you that our sandhill crane colts didn’t make it. mom and dad are fine, and doing well. but the babes are gone. we went to washington dc for a couple days to drop-off our son for a senatorial internship, and when we returned, the colts were gone.  we have a lot of their natural predators here (coyotes, foxes, raccoons, eagles, hawks, owls). i am guessing one of them got to the colts. for several days i walked around in daze–no wanting to live in a world where baby sandhill cranes get eaten like chicken nuggets. i’m better now. and we still have mom and dad who visit us every day. it’s all so bittersweet.

preened sandhill crane feathers

all hail the queen

there are a handful of subjects i will just keep photographing, year over year, because they are worthy of my time and attention. and because i can. i will keep doing it until i feel i have captured the essence of them. maybe by the time i am 80 i will be worthy of queen anne’s lace. i am guessing probably not.

queen anne’s lace (Daucus carota)

queen for a day

i taught a workshop yesterday in hayfield, minnesota to 15 professional photographers. hayfield is in south-central minnesota. farming country.  i had been driving through 30 miles of cornfields as far the eye could see, admiring the wide-open spaces of such flat terrain, when my gps told me to turn right into a conspicuous grove of vegetation and tall trees–enormous trees, actually. including the biggest cottonwood tree i have ever seen. nestled in the dappled sunlight under the canopy of trees was an inviting country home with wrap around porch and beautifully realized, meticulously cared-for, 6 acres of gardens. and to my pretty-well trained eye, it appeared to be all native plantings.  yowza, what a setting! i talked all morning, and then after lunch we toured the gardens, and i was introduced to a new-to-me flower so delightful and charming that i nearly wept. it’s called queen-of-the-prairie. it looked like clouds of cotton candy that had temporarily touched down on earth for our enjoyment and pleasure. i hope there is enough resolution in this image (after i had to downsize it to post to the web), that you can appreciate the heavenly clusters of tiny pink blossoms. imagine mounds of these pink clouds extending for thirty feet. heaven is central minnesota in july. and it’s pink.

queen-of-the-prairie (Filipendula rubra)