Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

I've decided to investigate the photography of dew. Many people do photograph dew diligently, and these folks have mastered the art of throwing a positive spin on just about anything.  However, in this dew series, dew is taken as is--sans diligence. sans Photoshop, sans anything but a set of dewy ephemerae! Uhm, I mean unless you count the rabbit in the lower left.  

Go back to the grassy fizzy place with a peach colored mist and flattened bubble gum. Go back to nights alight with honeysuckles, where ball games spin. Go back to awaken with a robin's nest and two blue eggs in the poplar trees. Go back to the grasshopper path with stickers and bare feet and horny toads and mud. Go back into a summer evening, with a cricket and an arching cigarette, flicked by a silent smoker on a porch. Come back with green and gold and clear red underpinnings. Come back with a small ball of open sky to play with. Come back to touch a finger tip. After all, why not?

We are not some suburbanites with a lawn and a garage full of weed-killers and power tools! We have a $3.97 trowel, a 12 inch rake and a couple of plastic food service preparation gloves, but what choice did we have? It was the $3.97 tin trowel or the measuring trowel made of plastic! Do not ask me what is a measuring trowel, how would I know?    I mean we're talking serious wood-chipped concrete covered clay root-balls here! Urban gardening is no joke!   See those tomatoes? Well, that's no picket fence they're up against! And the tiny impatiens, out there among the relentless commuters and the dirt deprived dogs and the cigarette butts, protected by a string? Nobody gave  us any wrought iron tree guards. Never mind! We are the Urban Planting Volunteers, and we are armed with Faith!

Look how fat and round our Ordinary Tree is growing, with its palm-sized leaves and symmetry of bulges. I recall those hard and bumpy dingles, iced and cold, but the sharpness fades someway into a frosty attic happenstance.  Bring down the dusty bucket and the old stiring spoon.  It's time to find a puddle, build a dam, and launch a floating toothpick with a leaf.

OK, perhaps I am not the best at wildlife photography, but I have waited long and hard for a clear view of Silhouette, and now I have it. You know how it often goes, the light is wrong, the subject doesn't wish to stay still, or some other something intervenes . I have finally understood that Silhouette simply chooses to remain two dimensional!

Unbendable iron stanchions, crossed,   It's named a fence, but "fence" means pickets, whitewash, dogs and snapdragons, hollyhocks. These glossed posts are black in the core. Why wont my mind go through the open cells? Why this Raven black with just a hint of a moon to add dimension?

What they do not tell you is how to get there on foot, on the weekend, when all of the elevated trains are operating with a sense of discovering new schedules and eliminating stops.  Oh, but the gardens are beautiful!