it’s still february

it’s funny. i consider myself a generally pretty upbeat person. and yet, i always respond to these somber, spare, winter photos (that some might find a little depressing) more than summer and autumn photos whose colors seem to leap for joy. i guess STILL is not, in the end about leaping for joy. it’s about simplicity. and soothing earthy palettes, and breathing room, and pauses to appreciate the unshowy expressions of nature. STILL is a lot of things, including a certain february mood.

birch branches in winter

fraying at the edges

minnesota winter is hard, and some of us handle it with more fortitude than others. this guy is no longer holding it together. he is one of those who will end up in a shack on sanibel island. we will mock him, and envy him at the same time.

winter graden leaf

this way

there is the path that leads to money. the path that leads to influence. the path that leads to power. the path that leads to judgment. nature lays a path of beauty, and says, “this way.”

dried hydrangea florets

crispa or crisper?

we had a dinner guest on saturday, who arrived with a sweet spring bouquet for us. in it were these two fringed tulips. i have never seen fringed tulips. i was captivated and thought to myself that we are probably going to see lots and lots more of these crazy floral mutations now that we can so easily tinker with dna. i had just assumed that this was a brand new variant. but, as i was preparing to make this post, i googled fringed tulips only to find out that fringed tulips have been around for a while. from google:

“In horticulture, tulips are divided into fifteen groups (Divisions) mostly based on flower morphology and plant size.

Div. 7: Fringed (Crispa) – cup or goblet-shaped blossoms edged with spiked or crystal-like fringes, sometimes called “tulips for touch” because of the temptation to “test” the fringes to see if they are real or made of glass. Perennials with a tendency to naturalize in woodland areas, growing 45–65 cm tall and blooming in late season.”

there is nothing new under the sun, nor even in naturalized woodland areas.

pink fringed tulips

glyphs

when I took this photo, i was trying to to visualize it as a black and white image through my viewfinder because i wanted the photo to be about the outlines and shapes and not about the colors. and in fact, when i first looked at the color version of the image, all i could see were a couple of cherry-red highbush cranberries. there was no easy way to assess the pattern of the elements without getting distracted by color. i like this version much better, but i didn’t realize until i corrected to black and white that i had also invented an alphabet of glyphs. part of me wants to give each one a meaning, and start sending indecipherable emails in the language of fallen nature.

bits and pieces of found nature