nature. edited.
i took a very elegant, true-to-life photo of a branch of honeysuckle this afternoon, that included the nicely veined opposite leaves, and a chain of delicate, dangling blossoms. it was quite competently done, and completely boring. i tried running it past my family in hopes that they would absolve me, but no luck. so with light failing in the early evening, i tore all the leaves off the branches, and created this artificial, yet not exactly dishonest, appreciation of the beauty of spring honeysuckle flowers. it’s not exactly the truth, but it’s not quite a lie, and it’s beautiful. so a pretty white lie is what you get for mother’s day.

honeysuckle blossom buds

a trillium in a china shop
trillium is my husband’s favorite spring flower. Steve says he likes how bold and broad they are willing to be at a time of year when the other woodland flowers are all frail little hepaticas and anemones. i suppose that’s consistent. he picked a spouse who isn’t afraid to spread her elbows.

trillium

turtle lake, shoreview, minnesota

seasonal wreath
don’t these balsam tips look like little creatures throwing their heads back and extending their arms wide in celebration? what better way for the just-hatched tips of spring trees to look? just don’t grab a fistful of them and then smell your hand. because it won’t be spring anymore. it will be mid-december with a christmas tree in the living room, about to be strung with lights.

balsam tips

turtle lake, shoreview, minnesota

see change
today i gave my presentation at the see change design conference in minneapolis. i really wanted to do a good job, and i hadn’t quite realized how much it had been hanging over me until i finished my talk, and realized i had done it. it was a wonderful conference, and hanging out all day with motivated and successful creative people was a huge gift. but right now i feel as light as these black cherry blossoms at the thought that i can sleep late tomorrow, with no big presentations to give in the foreseeable future.

black cherry blossoms

saint paul, minnesota

make believe
most of the time i try to document, more than embellish. i think nature is plenty fascinating all by itself, as it changes by location and by season, and by the amount of attention you pay to it. but i took this photo at first as a documentary artifact, and when i looked at it on the computer, i couldn’t help seeing the nest as a safe place for something innocent, and i couldn’t help seeing the elm leaves as winged little creatures hovering around to offer their protection. and so i wove in a little chain of black cherry blossoms so that whatever was in the nest would have something pretty to look at. and i took the photo again. i’m getting soft. but then, we did just lose the last of our six chickens, and clove was perhaps the sweetest and most innocent of them all. i didn’t make the connection until just now. but i guess this is a way of saying goodbye.

(blue jay?) nest with spring black cherry blossoms

saint paul, minnesota