Photo Journal

Last Dance of Spring

And since all this loveliness can not be Heaven, I know in my heart it is June.

Abba Louisa Goold Woolson

These little gifts of spring

green leaf and flower gold

 

Purple spikes and tall grass

I often pass -

until today

when my feet were slow,

and white blossoms

filled my quiet heart

with the grace of a season;

departing.

What an unusual spring we had. Fires in the north making the skies hazy and defusing the sunlight, very little rain, a mix of really hot and surprisingly cold days, and, at least where I live, an unusual abundance of wildlife.

I’ve had a little running injury this spring (now nearly healed) that slowed me down a bit and, in a way, I’m grateful. It gave me a chance to go on longer walks with my camera and take closeups of flowering and budding things. Even with the drier conditions, spring did not disappoint. I was especially drawn to the wild growing things, like the vine twisting over the road at the beginning of this post, the tall grass flowering in an empty lot, or the black-eyed susan and daisy, growing by the guardrails. I think I love them for their tenacity; their beauty rising even in unfavorable conditions.

I hope you had a wonderful week and had a chance to mark the summer solstice in some way on Wednesday, even if just in an acknowledgement that it happened. As I’m writing this, I just realized that there are a couple of you that actually are on the other side of the planet, heading into winter. Either way, seasons are changing. I’m happy you’re here with me! Thank you for your time and attention.

See you next week!

Deer Season

Deer Season

every morning deer

leave the woods through my garden

on the way to the lake with their spotted fawns

every morning they pause

to nibble on the tall grass at the side of the drive

as the little ones gather around

every morning I see them

and I adjust the focus and aim of my camera

to capture

a little piece of their

wild souls


Sunday Morning

I stepped outside to turn the sprinkler on in the garden as she was walking through the yard. I startled her.  She hid behind a scraggly shrub in the woods,afraid, but still a little curious.She stopped there; still; and stared at me pointing my camera at her pretty face. Realizing (I hope) that I meant no harm, she walked away slowly into the woods.

 

Monday

I saw the babies outside through the window, three of them, chewing on the tall grass. I slowly and quietly picked up my camera, setting the exposure and focus distance based on a guess before opening the front door as silently as possible. Barefoot, I tiptoed out on the drive trying to stay out of sight. They saw me anyway.  They were not afraid.  The one in front even stamped his (her?) foot at me a few times. Then their mother came out of the woods and they dutifully followed her downthe unpaved road toward the lake.

 

Wednesday

 

I saw the mother first.  She turned and saw me and stood there so resolutely, I suspected the fawns were near.   She snuck a quick glance at the woods, and I knew I was right.  The first one stepped out awkwardly, looking back at his siblings, not noticing me.  Then the other two appeared.  One of them noticed his mother staring up the hill and followed her gaze, finding me.  The bold one, from Monday? Maybe.  He (she?) was very slow to break eye contact with me.  But eventually their mother encouraged them on; and I walked back to the house, letting them go without following.

I would like to learn how to identify them by their markings like the naturalists do. How do they do that? What varies?  I don’t even know how to tell if they’re male or female unless they have their antlers. I’d like to be able to differentiate them from each other; to know each one as an individual, follow them as they grow older.