As my interest in and experimentation with photography evolves, I find that I am engrossed in the process of photography in macro mode. It’s the profile of the bee in flight with clearly defined grains of pollen and fine hairs on which that pollen attaches or the intricacies of the parts of flowers–pistil, anther, pollen, petal, taken in a wisp of breeze, that rivet and challenge me these days.
I am a novice and have a lot to learn. I harbor no ambitions beyond improving this new hobby and skill. I don’t currently own a macro lens and don’t know that I’ll invest in one. However, I accept every photo session as a tutorial in translating what I see, or think I see, to the still and silent screen.
Regardless of my current focus on photography (and ceramics, but that’s another conversation), I am, first and always, a gardener. My garden reflects an avid interest and deep affection for plants and their animal partners, as well as a sense of personal space and expression. My garden is an established one–I’ve gardened in this allotment for well over 20 years. Whew! That’s a long time. That space isn’t static though–not one bit. I wish I had better visual records of my garden through the years, but alas, I don’t. You’ll just have to trust me when I say that my garden, like any is alive and breathing, has evolved and adapted over the years in response to changing conditions, plant preferences, gardener whimsy and sometimes, gardener impatience.
Because of my passion for plants and their workings, in short, a plant geekiness, I don’t often take photos of my gardens in full shots. I favor selection of subject, not always the full palette. But this bountiful spring, I see my garden with its perennials abloom and mementos in place, not differently, but in its entirety: lush, growing, and life-sustaining. Come and take a virtual walk with me this lovely spring day to see a garden created by someone who loves her plants-n-critters. Mine is an attempt to heal a small part of the world by primarily working with what belongs here: a collaborative-effort garden between the gardener and her surroundings.
The back garden,
...and the front garden, where I rarely take photos.
It’s not a stylish or designed garden. It’s just a garden.
But it’s my garden.