Our building has a backyard that is weedy and overgrown. The walls of the buildings that surround it are cracked and flaking. Yet in times past, this old birdbath indicates it had known better days. I hope this photograph brightens up your day.
Living in a crowded city is a strange combination of crowded intimacy and lonely reserve. As an example, there is very small, below street level doorway garden less than a block from us that always has a magnificent collection of roses seemingly endlessly in bloom. When winter comes, there’s a small bird feeder with a constant supply of suet that takes care of hundreds of house sparrows.
The caretaker of this blooming bounty is a nice lady with whom I occasionally exchange a few words, never much more.
Today was different. Setting out on my usual street shooting walk, I noticed a woman chatting happily with the owner of a very cute dog. The scene didn’t really lend itself to a photo so I just sat and watched. The surprise came as she was leaving her conversation with the dog owner she turned and recognized ME. My wife joined us and the three of us had a friendly conversation.
Anyway, the upshot to this is that in this often lonely time we are living through, a chance encounter sweeps away a lot of dusty cobwebs.
When I first made this photograph, I was so fixated on the lovely blossoms I didn’t even see the Japanese Beetle munching on one of the petals. Now that the bug’s presence is very obvious, I find I don’t mind it at all.
I asked my wife yesterday not to throw away these dying lilies until I could photograph them. I love their poignant beauty. They remind me that even death can be tinged with loveliness.
It’s in the 40s today but Boston’s public garden couldn’t be more lovely.
What you see above is our rainy day antidote. It’s been raining for so long around here my wife Sarah bought this bunch of golden flowers to drive away the gloom. There’s an old shed in our back yard that served as an appropriate backdrop. It’s old water soaked boards provides a pretty good stand in for the current climate.
I find there’s something enormously powerful about flowers if one takes time to look at them closely.
“Tulips shyly smiling, greet the spring
Tightly closed when at
First we meet
Tulips slowly opening, begin to sing
No longer shy, as days grow longer,
Raising their heads
They begin to flirt
Tulips dressed in many a color
Each floral skirt
Tulips, brazen painted hussies,
Part their bright lips trying to seduce
The busy buzzing bees
Far too bold for dainty tussies
Vibrant Tulip flowers produce
Visions certain to please “
Pretty girls and flowers is a hard combination to beat.
The time is just after 5 yesterday afternoon. It had been a long day with a lot of driving in heavy city traffic. I was waiting to cross Beacon Street after walking up from the Park Street subway station and was looking forward to getting home and putting my feet up. Just as the light turned I noticed this tree bathed in the soft light of the sinking sun. There was really no time to compose the picture since I was standing in the middle of the intersection. The photo gods smiled on this one.
These were happy little spring flowers yesterday. They were peaking their heads up in the next block down the hill from us. Today with the wind chill, the temperature hovering just above zero, I’m afraid they’re no longer there.