Linda Grashoff's Photography Adventures

Posts tagged “photography

The Farmhouse Grounds in 2019


August 25, 2019

While I love photographing inside my friend’s farmhouse, the grounds are likewise appealing. One of the traditions for farmhouse owners and guests is going out after dinner to watch the sun set over the fields and trees. As I was walking to the viewing spot, I turned around and saw where the late-day sun had flung warm patches of light into the darkening woods. While I was at the farm, the sunsets were modest, but the shared experience of anticipating, then viewing them brought joy nonetheless. Photograph #6 is of the threshold to the viewing spot, proving that you don’t need a sunset to appreciate the view, even if it is obscured by trees. The next two photographs prove that you don’t need clear skies and copious sunshine to photograph the outdoors. This grouping ends with my find on the property of some of my favorite things: hoses. You can do a search of this blog on hoses if you like; you’ll get more hits than you might imagine.

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The Farmhouse in 2019—3


August 18, 2019

Could I see anything new in my fourth visit to my friend’s Pennsylvania farmhouse? I won’t say this was a worry, but it was a wonder. Earlier views of the farmhouse interior begin here and here and here. I guess I needn’t have wondered.

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Cucumber Falls 6


July 28, 2019

Last week I spent another glorious time at my friend’s farmstead in Pennsylvania. Repeating what we had done in previous years, we went on two outings to the Youghiogheny River—to Cucumber Falls one day and Ohiopyle Falls another. Looking at last year’s photos of Cucumber Falls, I see that the same views appealed to me this year. Rather than post nearly exact repetitions, I refer you to this and this and this and this and this post from 2018. Below are some photographs of and around Cucumber Falls that don’t repeat last year’s catch, at least not much.

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Too Much Water but Enough Shale


July 21, 2019

A week ago Sunday David and I walked downriver along the Vermilion. We’d had very little rain in Oberlin for maybe two weeks and expected the river to be low. We had forgotten that, even though the locations are only eight miles apart, weather at Schoepfle Garden—where we approach the river—and weather in Oberlin don’t always match. Alas, they must have had rain we didn’t. The river was too high, too fast, too wide, and the bedrock shale probably too slippery to walk across. I prefer the other side because it is where I always find lovely outbreaks of Leptothrix discophora films as well as interesting shale formations. On the less-interesting side we saw a little film, but nothing spectacular. Casting about for something that would warrant the rather tortuous trek along the river, I became fascinated by the shale at my feet where we usually cross over. Even there, the rock fractures along lines that look human made. I’d love to know why it does that.

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The Farmhouse in 2019—2


July 14, 2019

This potpourri of farmhouse views includes those of cooking necessities, partially made beds-in-waiting, and hand-hewn beams holding up the front porch.

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The Farmhouse in 2019—1


July 7, 2019

Last month for the third year in a row my husband and I were delighted to accept our friends’ invitation to a long weekend at the wife’s ancestral home in rural southwest Pennsylvania. Of course I took my camera. Earlier series of farmhouse photos begin here (2017) and here (2018). This time I took more detail shots. Patches of light have always attracted my attention—probably starting before I was able to even hold a camera. And gazing at and out windows seemed like such a lazy summery thing to do, befitting the ambiance of the weekend. We ate and ate, talked and talked, took walks, and completed two jigsaw puzzles.

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If You Go to Boston, Again


June 30, 2019

Once again I must thank Stephen Tomasko for sending me information about a photography show curated by Paula Tognarelli, executive director and curator of the Griffin Museum of Photography. (Thanks to Stephen, I answered the Griffin’s earlier call for entry to Abstraction Attraction. See my December 10, 2019 post.) Now my photograph “The Magic of Leptothrix discophora” has been accepted into the exhibition In Your Mother Tongue: A Word and Image Dialogue. If you were reading this blog back in August 2014, you may remember reading the poem that accompanies my photograph in this show. Like the photographs for Abstraction Attraction, all 45 entries are displayed in the Passageway of the Lafayette City Center in Boston. (The Passageway links Macy’s with the Hyatt Regency Hotel.) In Your Mother Tongue is up now through September 14, 2019.


Taking a Stroll around the Grounds


June 16, 2019

Yesterday I followed and unfollowed paths around my immediate neighborhood. I found baby oak leaves overlooking tall grasses; a willow tree behind goldenrod plants and before cattails sprinkled with pseudacris; a path through a wooded area dotted with daisies; very young films of Leptothrix discophora, some in front of a small outcrop of sedge; a duckweed-covered pond rising to meet hanging branches of another oak tree; and more duckweed in a different pond in the rain. I also took another stab at Intentional Camera Movement.

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Playing with the Landscape at Schoepfle Garden


June 9, 2019

It’s happened again: the feeling that I’ve gone stale, taken my life’s quota of decent photographs, and all that’s left is to repeat myself. It doesn’t help that we’ve had so much rain that I can’t even get close to the river, let alone walk across it to the other side, where all the good photographs are. (You may recall the fence on the other side of which the grass is always greener.) I was in Schoepfle Garden yesterday hoping to discover something. I was prepared to try intentional camera movement if nothing came along. And it didn’t. ICM is always a crapshoot (think of the ways you can read that word). So when I downloaded, I didn’t expect to find a lot of treasures. But I did think I’d find a few. What I found was very few—so I tried going black and white with the best ones. The B&Ws may be my favorites. I wonder what you think. I also wonder if it will ever stop raining long enough for me to get next to the river. I need to get out of this slump . . . maybe a completely new location . . . or is that the fence with the greener grass on the other side, too . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Except When I Do


May 28, 2019

Many of you know that I don’t photograph flowers—except when I do. Two photographs of flowers play bookends here to the rest of my haul from walking in Schoepfle Garden a week ago Saturday. In between are lichens on a low retaining wall and some favorite trees along the Vermilion River. Elsewhere in the park, I wasn’t surprised to see this stump; the tree had been visibly ailing. But I was surprised that someone had painted the edges of the stump with orange paint. Drawing closer, however, I saw that it wasn’t orange paint but a bright-orange fungus. None of my photographs of the fungus up close came out. I wonder if the brightness could have thrown off my camera’s focussing ability. Had I done more chimping, I might have noticed that the fungus was not in focus. Maybe I would even have thought to try manual focus. At least the section of the stump that is spalted turned out. The next photograph is in monotone because it was too confusing in color. Moving in, thus cutting down on the number of elements in the frame, the subject could handle color. I found some Leptothrix discophora along the river, but we’ve had so much rain that it was quite young (previous films having been washed down toward Lake Erie) and probably is all gone by now. Even though this film is very young, you know you’re looking at L. discophora when the water reflects the surrounding foliage so brilliantly. The opening flower photograph is of dogwood, but I don’t know the name of the closing flower. Maybe one or more of you do. The last image is a crop of the previous one. Click on it to see it larger.