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.
May 22, 2019
Last April I posted three photographs of a rock I see whenever I go to the Schoepfle Garden. In the Comments, Alan Goldsmith asked if I’d thought of photographing the rock from the same place every time. I confess that I’d only been trying to find the most interesting composition each time. But his comment lodged in my brain, and I have since tried to stick with the same view or two when I visit. So here are two photographs I took of the rock Saturday. Following those are some photos I’d taken of the rock from the same vantage points on June 2 and July 14, 2018.
Shortly after posting photos of this rock last April, I named the rock Table Rock. Now I can keyword this specific rock in Lightroom and call up its photos easily. But there’s another advantage in naming features in the landscape. For me, attaching words increases the intimacy I feel with the named thing. I can’t say why this is so. Perhaps some of you have some relevant ideas.
April 21, 2019
This collection of photographs begins, in a way, where the last post left off: with trees of life. The plants growing on these trees seem a little different from the ones shown in the last post—perhaps because they immediately border the water. Two photographs separate the trees of life from reflections in the creek: one I think of as essence of tiger—a small stream on its way to the creek—and an arrangement of dead leaves.
February 1, 2019
Some of these lines may be cables of some sort rather than hoses, but I don’t have a good rhyme for them. Found all these guys at the marina in Sarasota’s Bayfront Park.
October 24, 2018
In 2008 the Madison Brass Works building was not what many other people would call attractive. Well, you know the rest. I spent considerable time entranced by this window that July. Alas, revisiting the building will not allow my continued enjoyment, at least of this window. This is how the building looks now.
Here are details of some of the glass blocks:
August 19, 2018
Some of you will remember the photographs of the Pennsylvania farmhouse windows taken last year. (See here and here and here.) Last year my best intentions to take many photographs inside the house were thwarted by my wish instead to socialize and play at other things. This year I was a bit more disciplined but, I think, not to the real detriment of playing games and schmoozing. Here’s the beginning of this year’s harvest of Pennsylvania farmhouse photographs.
April 7, 2018
Although the temperature in the area never rose above 36 degrees Fahrenheit March 4, the sun was out, dislodging snow and ice from tree branches overhanging the Back Pond.
April 6, 2018
By the time you see this post, spring may have appeared in full in northeast Ohio, but this blog will linger on the transition from winter for a while longer. While the photographs in the previous eight posts were taken in Oberlin (on March 10), the rest of this series features photos taken in Schoepfle Garden. I always make my way down to the Vermilion River by way of the Back Pond. Here’s how the pond looked March 4.
September 5, 2017
I may be confusing people. This is not my car, nor are the cars in any post with the title “A Car for Linda?” It is a photograph of a car (and a reflection) like photographs of cars that I take. Earlier photographs of cars that I posted—the ones, called “A Car for Ken”—were like photographs of cars that a fellow blogger named Ken takes. (Keep scrolling on his site; you’ll find some.) Ken avoids reflections in cars; I seek them.
September 4, 2017
September 3, 2017
(Ken doesn’t do reflections in cars, usually.)
September 2, 2017
July 22, 2017
This sumac is growing by the side of the building erected to house the Oberlin Conservatory’s jazz studies. This is the same building shown in the post of July 16.
July 19, 2017
Same car as in yesterday’s post . . .
July 18, 2017
April 22, 2017
The quarries fill not just with water but dead trees. And visiting Canada geese. . . . What a difference a polarizing filter on my camera lens makes.
April 21, 2017
There is a road that I cross when driving between Schoepfle Garden and Oberlin called Quarry Road. If I drive far enough north on Quarry Road, I reach two sandstone quarries that have ceased operations and are now filled with water. On a recent typical overcast day in early spring northern Ohio (April 2, to be exact), I did some exploring there.
March 12, 2017
While I was photographing the upended tree, Lynda called from further down the path. Was I interested in photographing a dead alligator, or was that too gross. This photograph shows my answer. Up north the turkey buzzards keep our rural roadways cleared of carcasses, and I have often thought of them as the cleanup crew. It’s hard to tell how much cleaning up these black vultures can achieve with such tough hide to work through. They were certainly doing their best.
March 8, 2017
When I go to the Venice Myakka River Park, I usually spend most of my time at the lagoon there. On February 12, however, water lettuce covered much of the water’s surface, and confounded with a cloudy sky, I failed to catch the reflections that often intrigue me. I was at the park as the second outing with my new friend Lynda. While I tarried at the lagoon, hoping it would still speak to me, she wandered along and soon found the photography event of the day (you’ll see later) and phoned to alert me. All in all, thanks largely to Lynda’s superior ability to spot potential photographic material, it was a great day. . . . Willow trees proliferate in this park.
March 7, 2017
They could almost be skyscrapers, but they aren’t. I can’t remember what was in back of me as I photographed this retired refrigerated truck in Cortez. But certainly not skyscrapers, not in this little fishing village.
November 9, 2016
November 8, 2016