burden

when we left southern france one month ago, the very first of the almond trees were already blooming. spring begins there in february. but here in the north, mid-february is still very much the dead of winter. it will be about two months before we start seeing signs of spring. the heaviness of this frost-laden tallgrass seed-head, is a perfect visualization of the weight of winter at this time of year. we are still in tact. it is still beautiful. but we are all just a little weighted down.

hoar frost on tall grass seed head

getting reacquainted

i have two little shelf-sized plant presses. i opened them up this afternoon to reacquaint myself with what i might have tucked in them last summer (which is mostly a blur because we were preparing to leave for france). this is what i found. not bad for random tucking and stashing. makes me wonder what a little intentionality might produce. i guess i have a summer goal now. two actually: intentionality, and a larger plant press.

assorted pressed and dried botanicals

virtual reality

this image was not altered in any way. these prairie grasses sticking up out of the snow were furry with hoar frost. i had turned up the exposure on my camera so the snow would register as bright white, and then i shot mostly blind because the viewfinder had fogged up. i love the suggestiveness and mystery of results so much i may even print this image to see how it works as a piece of abstract art.

prairie grasses with morning hoar frost

a change is as good as a rest

i don’t work much with triangles. i find them more energetic than other more organic shapes, and to me it feels like an anxious energy. not very STILL like, in other words. but i decided today that i had done too many circles lately, and so invited a little bit of anxious triangular energy into my living room. it spiced things up. but it didn’t win me over. back to circles.

assemblage of dried and pressed botanicals

standing proud

i drive by this stand of poplar trees every day on the way to my son’s school. i have been eyeing it for STILL for years. every time we have a winter-white sky i think to myself that i ought to get out there and photograph it. but it stands beside a busy county highway, and it usually feels a little dangerous to pull over on that particular stretch. other days, i feel ready to pull over and take my chances, and all of those days have so far been sunny or partly sunny. so i’ve been waiting for the right day to come along. it came along today.

poplar trees in winter