once you see one…

you know that weird thing that happens when you learn a new word you’ve never heard in your 57 years on the planet, and then within a week you hear it three more times? well, once you see insect-eaten skeleton leaves, apparently that is all you can see for a week.

beetle-eaten virginia creeper vine leaves

happy then sad

sometimes when i am making a STILL blog photo, i look through the viewfinder and i am overcome with beauty, and then right on it’s heels…sadness. it is not because these leaves were beetle eaten that makes me sad, beetles are part of the circle of life too, but because i know i will not be able to share the photo with you with any of the detail that makes it so remarkable. in order to post to the web, i resize my 8 MB photos down to 300K. if i didn’t it would take way too long for STILL pages to load. this photo of gorgeous lace-like linden leaves, is a perfect example. the crisp, sharp edges where the beetles chewed away the soft bits of the leaves in the original image is what makes the photo. but the low resolution image only hints at it. but you guys are good…i know you can imagine the details in your mind’s eye.  it’s quite breathtaking, isn’t it?

beetle eaten linden (tilia) leaves

the north

just a little reminder to you all that STILL blog comes to you from the great state of minnesota: land of 15, ooo lakes. we sit smack in the middle of the north american continent (look at a map, canada is enormous), on the northern border of the united states.  the location of the twin cities is fascinating. we sit right at the crux of three major bioregions: the northern boreal forest to the north, the eastern hardwood forests  and great lakes bioregion to the east, and the great plains the south and west. we also happen to be located right on north america’s  largest watershed (and flyway)–the mississippi river.  all this means, it’s an interesting place. i hope you think so too. i do my best to keep it fresh and unexpected every day. xoxo mary jo

beach sand

guess what?

leaves, leaves, and more leaves. one billion leaves.

bur oak leaves (Quercus macrocarpa)

“what’s water?” asked the fish

as i go about my day, i am constantly scanning the environment for possible STILL subjects. what’s new? what’s happening right now?  i continuously ask myself. “what’s here today that wasn’t here yesterday?”  and then today, gazing into my backyard, i laughed out loud. why on earth am i looking past one billion green leaves every single day, to find tomorrow’s STILL subject. one billion leaves. i honestly do not think i am exaggerating. minnesota is green, green, green this time of year. why are flower blossoms more worthy than green leaves? why do i wait for fall to start photographing leaves again? what’s my bias against green leaves?  because they are so ordinary? so common? so abundant? i challenge myself to make the ordinary extraordinary here on STILL. and yet, green leaves fell so far below my arbitrary cut-off, that they actually became invisible to me.

gingko leaves in summer