Posts Tagged ‘medium format’

everything in foom

7 April 2009

Lately there has been what seems a never-ending series of flower photos on my Flickr stream. I never thought I’d be a flower photographer, let alone a flower person period. My memory is notoriously steel-trap, but when it comes to the names of flowers, I can’t remember them for the life of me. There’s this one that grows in the garden outside, a beautiful spray of orange. Meaning I love it, of course. I’ve heard the name countless times but not until I finally write it down here am I going to remember it.

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But somehow the flowers are getting to me. Especially now that it’s spring again and the garden, as we like to say, is coming into FOOM. All the colors and blooms (at least, the ones the deer don’t eat). And after more than a year of being around this fairytale garden on a regular basis, I’m starting to remember some of their names. Cerinthe and Ribes – I’ve decided they’re doomed lovers in a Greek myth. Fleabane, imported from a Victorian sensibility and carpeting tiny hills with their even tinier daisy faces. Oxalis, the flowering weed that takes over, infusing everything with eye-searing acid yellow and only rarely with pale pink or white. Puffs of cherry and plum blossoms dotting the wiry branches of trees everywhere. Wild onion, droopy and delicate and sweetly white; forget-me-nots and salvia and camelias and agapanthus and azaleas and magnolias and wee purple hardenbergia and foxglove and lilies and orchids and California poppies and those big orange flowers out back (I should ask about those) and the bush the hummingbirds love, the name of which even my mom can’t remember. And of course, the dogwood. Oh man, the dogwood.

I think I love dogwood

Life has been a little less than bright, happy, simple, and peaceful these past few weeks. It finally occurred to me that the flowers have been just what I’ve needed. They’ve inspired me in a lot of ways and they’ve given me exactly what we look for here.

There is some truth to the old chestnut, I suppose: Stop and smell the flowers. And if you’re us, photograph them as well.

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(all photos in this post by Leah)

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