Essay #58: Japanese gardens

Botanical gardens are havens for still-life photographers, but Japanese gardens have a flair all their own. Meticulous yet relaxing, they seem to strike the unattainable balance between sun and shade, man-made structures and nature's wild elegance, bright colors and muted neutrals. And they somehow always have something blooming. Plus, bonsai-pruned trees. You know the lame personality question, "If you were a tree what kind would you be?" I would be a bonsai tree.

Essay #57: Play ball!

I've written before about my enjoyment of live sports. My favorite is baseball. I don't have any interest in televised baseball, but I love going to games.

Baseball can be tricky to photograph. There's a lot of waiting between short flurries of action, and you never really know where the ball is going to end up so it's hard to set up a shot ahead of time. If it's a brilliantly sunny day, the shadows preclude certain angles.

And yet, I'm a sucker for it. Especially those daring moments of stealing bases or racing for home even as the ball streaks toward the catcher's mitt. It's all about patience, persistence, and strategic timing--much like photography.

Essay #56: Tulips

Spring has truly overcome winter when the drab, gray ground suddenly bursts into riotous color of all shades and sizes: Tulips!

I think that tulips may be one of my photographic muses. A patch of big, tall ones--like these red and yellow beauties--simply demands to be explored. Each new perspective unveils new beauty. Photographing tulips is truly a study in color, light and shape. They inspire me to explore other scenes and subjects from new perspectives as well. A tilt of the camera, an upward angle, direct lighting versus side lighting...so many possibilities!

Essay #55: New life

Spring has come! It's bursting from every branch.

 When I watched winter drape it gray, snowy blanket over autumn's faded glory last year, I never suspected that I'd be watching spring's renewal 250 miles from where I stood.

I'm starting over, too. After a long winter of waiting and wondering, I feel much like the leaves tentatively unfurling, tasting the warm air to see if it's good before fully opening up. I feel sad knowing this growing season won't be like the last, but hopeful that it will be vibrant and full of surprises.