I continue to like this time between night and morning. It is just those few minutes before the birds start to sing.
Right before dawn I was out shooting covered in a poncho to shield the camera. The light was just at the break point between night and light. The camera sees apparitions that I miss.
The remarkable ability to the mind to problem solve continues to impress me. It isn’t through logic, decision trees or a systematic approach, but more from the trust that it can be worked out by your subconscious as you go through your day or sleep at night. We have such untapped resources, an ocean of creativity at our disposal, if we only trust and call on it.
I like this shot on the left, Two Birds, taken the day before yesterday, for its smoky stain around the edges of the form. I aim to make my prints close the gap between photo, etching and painting.
It’s all slowly falling into place, the way is being set and Spring is official now. The dead lace still is beautiful in its dried form as new growth is microscopically starting.
A time to rejoice as this man-created time change (done for the farmers originally) has arrived, the marker of Springtime for the most of us. Rain is expected all week and I look forward to a nice group of good shots in that light. Very soon, a few weeks, there will be a sudden cross over from dull and dried out to pale yellow and green. It is almost overnight that the Earth wakes up and blinks.
Every sign, every change is laden with hope. As the sun crawls higher in the sky and the small signals suggest the warmer weather, we note the tiny increments of change. This must be built into our DNA as children of the Earth. Our pets grow frisky, we feel like leaving our scarves on the hook inside. We leave our coats open inviting the spring to take us even in its early chill. There is no more poignant longing than for Spring, for all its metaphorical echoes. I remember jumping in the mud, the smell of the wet ground and the first shoots of Daffodils. It is as real now as it was when I was four. Breathe deep and treasure these moments of bliss and expectation.
It’s a quiet Sunday except for the big flock of Grackles who are talking to each other and have been gathering each morning as they feed on the ground. They were gone before I could get the camera. They made a startling blanket of glistening black on the ground around seven a.m. This shot on the left is where they were earlier. I am surprised to see them this early though they must know more about Spring’s arrival than I. Handsome birds, in Virginia last year I didn’t spot a single one until June. Tomorrow morning I will have the camera at the ready. Stay tuned.