30 July 2018
Taken in Camera+ and Polamatic. Edited in Snapseed and Pixlr.
Click onto image to enlarge. Let me know your response to this collage. Prints are available upon request.
July has become unpredictable. I live in the Mid-Atlantic on the East Coast of the USA, and traditionally this month (midway through summer) has always been hot and humid. It also tends to be dry, dry, dry. In the last few years the heat has intensified even more in August, and on a sunny day miserable is more than a descriptor.
Climate change and this month’s weather patterns have tossed any generalization into the stratosphere. In the last two weeks we’ve had daily rain, mostly pop-up storms. But severe thunderstorms also have persisted. To add to this unexpected shift, temps have swung downward to the low 80s, accompanied by high humidity. I feel as though I am living in the tropics.
While gardens are flourishing, we desperately need the sun to cast its magic. With excess rain comes premature dropping of leaves, mold and tomato-end rot. And the other day as I labored over cast offs, I found myself spying on a unique summer sighting: a maple leaf that had already lost some of its pizzazz, color dissipated and hues of autumn prevailed.
It stunned my visual senses. It sparked an instantaneous response, and I experienced a luxurious celebration of nature’s artistry and surprises.
Sometimes what you see in the natural world is unto itself perfection, perfection in the moment and the gaze. That’s exactly what happened. Even with the circumstances of the leaf’s demise, I found elation.
“I’ve started keeping an eye out for what others have in their years.”
Yesterday I read a charming article by Jan Benzel (The New York Times, 29 July 2018) who speaks to how her inner gardener was coaxed to emerge. “Confessions of a Late-Blooming Gardener” shares the metamorphosis of a city dweller “into a life with plants and trowels.” It’s a sweet article about how she was converted to the gardening life. You can read it here.