It wasn’t even five o’clock. But that’s winter for you. We had rain, wind, early darkness and then through the dark clouds a final defiant burst of sunlight just as it tipped below the horizon…a little reminder that after the rain the sun will always come, in life and in weather.
Tag Archives: winter trees
Most of the trees have lost their leaves now…like these ones. Orange and yellow leaves litter the ground all over. The trees look quite graceful in their naked state. Their leafless limbs bending helplessly in the wintry gusts – no shelter available to man, bird nor animal in these barren winter branches…but still it is beautiful.
I spotted this tree in Auckland recently. It’s silver white trunk was so smooth and shiny and seemed to go on for miles and miles toward toward the sky.
I imagined what it would be like to be a bird flying around and resting at the top of the tree, in the shelter of the branches, and looking out at the world from there.
Sometimes you get unexpected surprises in your photography. In life, also. We must always be open to the joy (and sometimes shock) that can accompany surprises. In photography it means being open to taking chances on shots that might or might not work as we expect or hope. In life it means not being too rigid in our plans and ideas, not being too set in our ways, never saying “never”…We have to leave space in our life to be surprised, to expect the unexpected, to invite a little chaos, uncertainty and unpredictability in…because it feeds our fire.
Sometimes we take for granted the very scene we see everyday. It is so familiar that we don’t even notice it any more. Yet the same place seen from a different perspective can give you a different take on things. I took this image while upstairs in a building in our main street. It was a perspective I had not seen before and it made the familiar city scene look quite unfamiliar and interesting. It reminds me to keep looking at things with fresh eyes.
Magnolia trees in full bloom with their bare branches and huge pink flowers are a sure sign around here that spring is on its way. I came across this huge magnolia tree heavily laden with flowers while out on my run recently. I couldn’t resist a small branch from the huge tree with its heavy pink load of spring joy.
At home, in an old crystal decanter for a vase, they look simple and stunning.
This image is taken at the edge of a cemetery, near the sea, just at that point in time when a sunset turns to night-time. The last photo of the day – taken with an expectation that I would quite possibly have to delete it as “too dark/too blurry”, but found instead that I loved its eerie and spooky feel and the sense of drama about it. It just goes to show, again (I know!), that sometimes just taking that image and not thinking too much about whether it is or isn’t “worth it”, can sometimes be the surprise image of the day.
I love a happy accident. At the time the photograph was taken I had not noticed these wonderful trees. I was taken (and distracted) by something much closer – a little fantail flittering about close by. I captured this lovely bush/tree scene quite by accident. It is a very happy accident. It immediately looks like a watercolour painting to me with its watery, blurry colours but could also be, quite easily, an abstract painting with thick layered, blurred and smudged colours.
I am reminded that there are no such things as mistakes when you are creatively minded. Only opportunities and learnings. It’s a good thing to be reminded of.
I get my camera back tomorrow, after dropping it and being without my beloved for several weeks. I have been quite lost without it. This image is one of the last I took with it.
The tree with the last of summer’s leaves hanging on it seemed so poignant. The reluctance to give up on summer, I think. The delicateness of the few remaining leaves contrast against the stark winter-ready branches. It is as if the leaves sense it is futile to remain clinging to the tree but do so anyway, just as we too hold on to summer long after the warmth has gone. I am sure that by the very next day the remaining leaves would be all but gone, but in this moment, they held their ground for one more day. I like that.
I saw this tree… a burst of yellow against the very dry, parched and muted hills and countryside. I am not usually a fan of yellow, but there was something about the shape of the tree, the intense colour, its isolation in an empty field and its bright presence that just really grabbed my attention.
Yellow is a hard colour to work with. A hard colour to love. Yet sometimes it shines like gold, smiles like a sunflower and warms your heart like a sunshine ray beaming down just on you…The tree made me smile. That’s a good enough reason to love it.