Day 4 of Susannah Conway’s #AugustBreak2015 photography challenge. The word of the day is numbers.
A sea of numbers, under the lifeguard stand
How do you translate numbers into real-life experiences? I snapped a few pictures, to help sum things up.
Paddle boarders venture into the waves, beyond the reach of the rip currents.
A friendly dragon with a birds-eye view.
Family fun–not a cell phone in sight!
A singular tribute, left untouched
Egyptian Star Flower, under the magic spell of a bubble wand
Memories float across our consciousness like bubbles, and then vanish into thin air. If we could capture those nostalgic moments in pixels, same as we do with the written word…imagine the possibilities!
Day 2 of Susannah Conway’s #August Break2015 photography challenge. Today’s prompt: air. Wheeee, bubble wands are the epitome of summertime fun! I chased bubbles through my flowerbeds, pressing the shutter release now and again. When this one landed in front of a flower cluster–pure magic! I just pointed my camera and clicked. Quick tip: If you add a few drops of glycerine to the soapy mixture, the bubbles tend to last a little longer. You can purchase both at your local drug store.
The stars aligned for me yet again, in that this week’s Challenge Word enticed me away from my computer and into yet another outdoor adventure. I grabbed a picnic lunch, my camera, and a couple of books, and sped down PCH steered my roadster toward Laguna, which is where I photographed this constellation of stars.
There’s so much to love about Cynthia Lord’s upcoming release, A Handful of Stars. I’m reminded of my junior high school friend, Luz, the daughter of a migrant farm worker who takes a lead role in my contribution to the YA anthology, Dear Bully.
Bibliophiles, don’t you fret! There’s a waxed paper barrier between this sweet little book & the wet sand.
Lucky me, I’ve also got an advanced review copy of Jeannine Atkins’ newest novel, Little Woman in Blue! At a time when women assumed subservient roles on the whole, artist May Alcott steps out from behind her famous sister Louisa’s shadows and becomes the star of her own life. *applauds wildly*
Little Woman in Blue, sitting pretty on a lifeguard’s rescue watercraft
There’s a shortage of starfish in our local tide pools, so I brought one of my own, for the purpose of this challenge. Funny story: When I was snapping this picture, a cluster of Aussies gathered ’round, talking with animated gestures about what they’d assumed was a gift from the sea, washed ashore by these waves. We laughed about it afterwards, and they joked that they’d brought with them the whales that were breaching off shore before I got there.
No, he’s not a star. But when this seagull kept wandering into the frame, I decided to give him his moment in the sun.
This bright yellow bloom is a reflection of the sun itself, which everyone knows is a star.
Blue on blue, what a stellar day! I’d rate it five starfish out of five!
Linkfest! If you want to see other bloggers’ responses to this week’s challenge, click here.
My photographic response to last week’s challenge, coats, is here.
Breathing in, there is only this moment…
On Friday, Walela’s breathing was effortful…
Breathing out is a wonderful moment.
The first egg in her second clutch.
If we are not fully ourselves,
Two days later, Walela’s breathing is once again labored.
truly in the present moment…
We breathe as one in this moment.
We miss everything. –Thich Nhat Hahn
It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for a bird to learn to fly while remaining an egg.
We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad. — C.S. Lewis
Walela’s hatchlings are 15 and 17 days old now. *sniff* Time flies, and wow, haven’t they grown?
When they’re not snuggled side-by-side in the nest, waiting for Walela to bring them another meal, they’re flapping their wings and wriggling precipitously on its edge.
This video footage shows them for the survivors they are. It ends on a really sweet note, but given all their daredevil aerobatics, it’s not for the faint-of-heart.
They’ll fledge within a week, so while these flight simulations seem scary to us as bystanders, they are critical to the hummingbird babies’ ultimate survival.
Here’s a shorter, tamer video, for the good eggs among us who might’ve watched only a portion of the first video through splayed fingers. So funny, the way they poke Walela’s chest with their growing beaks, as if to say, “Mom, Mom, is it lunch time yet? Mom?” And see how she preens their pinfeathers at the end?
My heart was heavy when I positioned the stepladder beside the fuchsia plant in which Walela had built her nest. Why had one of the hatchlings died, I fretted, and why hadn’t the mama hummingbird removed it from the nest?
Her nest was steeped in shadow, so I decided I’d wait to take pictures until later in the day. One last look, I told myself when I reached the front door. But when I glanced over my shoulder, I did a double-take.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. I’ll check again later, I told myself. Wait and observe, as my friend Amy suggested. My knees were shaking when I climbed the ladder again a while later. Here, ensconced in a walnut-sized nest, the very essence of hope.
My hands trembled when I pressed the shutter. Could it be?
You tell me. 🙂
Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding.
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as bird wings. —Rumi
We celebrated my friend Karin’s birthday last Friday by getting together at my house for lunch. “A rare fusion of fluff and majesty,” she’s a peony in my friendship garden.
One of the highlights of the afternoon: Seeing pure, unadulterated joy spread across Karin’s face as she climbed the ladder and peeked into Walela’s hummingbird nest.
And look! Walela took the spotlight in her evening wear, right after she left. Those iridescent feathers rival anything haute couture we might’ve seen at the Grammys last night. Agree?
For reasons unknown to us, the hatchling to the right of the screen didn’t make it. That’s Mother Nature’s doing, and the undoing of some who are fortunate enough to witness miracles like this as they unfold. Of course I’m sad–who wouldn’t be? But I’m comforted by the fact that there’s a greater power at work here, with wisdom beyond our own understanding.
Shadows sometimes fall when we least expect them. But sure as daylight follows night, “Joy cometh in the morning.” Want proof? This little guy just opened his peepers!
Sometimes you've gotta back yourself into a new day…
…or come about it sideways
instead of meeting it head-on.
(And sometimes –okay, often–you've gotta reframe a picture gone wrong.)
I used a point-and-shoot camera for the longest time, and still do. But when I got frustrated by its limitations, a cherished friend offered me a higher-end camera from his personal collection. In doing so, he opened for me the gates to a whole new world. There’s no way I can adequately express my gratitude for Peter Laird’s generous gift, but I'd like to give it a try.
By its very definition, “photography” is “to write or draw with light.” I'm one who's drawn to light, as a rule, and I tend to notice things other people don't. But my new camera invites me to look even closer. I'm learning to twist the lens just so, in a way that brings near the things I might otherwise have overlooked: sharp edges and rounded corners, bold patterns and rough textures, saturated and sun-bleached colors.
It's a messy thing, this bearing witness.
Look! It’s one of my favorite words. Not as it’s spoken by narrow-eyed sorts, for whom “Look!” means “See here! I know what’s right, and it’s time you come around to my point of view.”
As I define it, “Look” is a soft-focused invitation to see what is, and to imagine in your mind’s eye the things that might someday be. It’s sometimes borne of a quiet sense of wonderment, as when the night wind whispered to the little lamb, Do you see what I see? But it can also be a trumpeting sound, a la the angel’s proclamation, “Behold!”
Look! I learned it from my mother, saw it reinforced in Dick and Jane. It’s part of who I am, mind body and spirit. I’m thinking that’s why I enjoy my new camera so much. It’s not about capturing the perfect image, perfectly composed (although I’m working on that). It’s more about noticing things I might otherwise have overlooked. Photography encourages me to explore, from different vantage points, the things that catch my eye, and it affords me a visual record of my adventures.
Speaking of which…Look! I collected these memories in Santa Barbara County.
Fog greets the Surfliner train as it pulls into the Santa Barbara station.
Seals at play, Stearns Wharf
A house with a bird’s-eye view of Clairmont Lavendar Farm
Notice the finely structured bones of this bistro table–too, the naked limbs of the live oak in the distance. They’ve come to the forefront, now that the lavender’s gone dormant for winter.
Rainbow chard, displayed at a farmer’s market in Santa Barbara
An invitation to savor the local flavors of Solvang, a Danish village in Santa Barbara County’s wine country
Begonia in a bookstore windowbox
Pasta shells gone glam, atop a Christmas tree at an Italian restaurant
A team of Clydesdales pulls tourists through the streets of Solvang.
Meanwhile, their miniature cousins munch grass (at Quicksilver Ranch).
We had a fabulous weekend, a feast for all senses. And when we finally headed home, we chased a long string of railroad cars for several miles. To our left: live oaks and chapparal; on our right: rocky cliffs and a sparkling blue ocean. Glimpses of paradise, wherever we looked.