Nature Photography: Coexistence (No. 52): Shades of Climate Crisis and Hope is not Enough

30 December 2019

Lens:

Shades of Climate Crisis Photomontage; All Rights Reserved 2019 Sally W. Donatello

Click onto image to enlarge. Let me know your response to this photomontage. Prints are available upon request.

Pens:

May Stevens (1959-2019) once said of her life as a painter and an activist: “The idea was to make your own life by taking action and going beyond ordinary existence. Just earning a living, not living a mental life, and not trying to change things was a life that was frightening to me. You become human only when you make this great struggle for realizing your life and making it count.”

 

My Ode to 2020:

Winter officially arrived a little over a week ago, yet the last few weeks have been unseasonable cold and grey. And as the days continue to lighten glacially, my mood fits that trajectory. Still, I cling to the optimist in me, knowing that each day leads to greater illumination.

Over the last few months I have been assessing and processing the intersection between my ideology, philosophy and photography. This process has led me to review my blog and its evolution of content over almost nine years (which astounds me). The journey has led to my own tipping point about this work—work that started with some direction, but escalated into a precise direction: to honor the interaction between nature and human nature.

As the New Year appears with its own cadence, an artist friend and I will meet frequently to experiment and encourage each other’s sense of seeing the world and affects upon our creative works. Inner and outer forces have brought me to this fork in the road.

In the Lens section is a biomorphic photomontage that solicits thoughts about the climate crisis and the worldwide alert that couldn’t be more alarming. My image shows a fragmented silhouette of multiple trees against the dark and some light in the background—a background that forecasts crisis.

We have a decade (give or take) to change this harrowing reality. Each of us can discover ways to steady our own emotional reaction by actions, doing something in our tiny teeny slice of the universe. In whatever way that “doing” translates, it can help us through the days and nights.

I have been aware for decades about living more sustainably and earth friendly, and I continue to do more. But the urgency mounts. My photography and writing are avenues to maneuver the minefields of this human-made crisis.

I keep anxiously waiting and asking: When will the course of the river’s flow change? When will the greater good of humanity and the planet outweigh the greed and power lust of my governmental officials and others around our spinning globe?

Time is ticking faster than I can breathe it inward. Its sound is louder than the silence. But we can do it; we can turn the corner toward healing the planet and ourselves.

Personal awareness through individual activism, community activism and worldwide activism are my dearest wishes for the world’s healthy rejuvenation and renewal. Hope is not enough; our actions and voices are the light in the Earth’s future.

Nature Photography: Coexistence (No. 51) Bamboo Sculpture at Longwood Gardens

18 November 2019

Lens:

Ikebana Bamboo Collage; All Rights Reserved 2019 Sally W. Donatello

Click onto image to enlarge. Let me know your response to this collage. Prints are available upon request.

Pens:

My days are made more bountiful when I can combine what allows me to be in a conscious state of bliss: combining art and nature. When they are paired, there is a symbiosis that magically and mystically acts for me as a meditative state. I am able to be with my surroundings and completely eliminate outside influences. It’s a state of flow and tranquility, almost contentment.

And that’s exactly where I found myself this past week: wrapped in a glorious exhibition at Longwood Gardens. The month-long display titled Blooms & Bamboo: Chrysanthemum and Ikebana Sogetsu Artistry, ended yesterday. Truly, it was one of the most extraordinary visual celebrations of art and nature. I was hypnotized by the manipulation and design that the created.

Here is a description from the Gardens website: “[The exhibition was] … designed for Longwood by Headmaster of Sogetsu Iemoto Akane Teshigahara of the Sogetsu School of Ikebana. The traditional art of Japanese floral design, Ikebana serves as an expression of Japan’s deep connection with nature. Spanning more than 600 years of history, this art features hundreds of different Ikebana schools, each developing its own forms that depict the ideal of beauty and grace. One of the most modern of such schools, the Sogetsu School of Ikebana focuses on free expression and is based on the view that Ikebana is a way for human beings to express themselves. Teshigahara shares, ‘Although I have created bamboo installations in a variety of styles in Japan and around the world for more than 20 years, the two installations at Longwood will be the greatest and finest of all, both in terms of scale and bamboo-manipulation techniques.’ The display is rounded out with 23 Ikebana arrangements throughout the Conservatory, as well as a visionary sculpture created by the founder of the Sogetsu School. In support of Teshigahara’s designs, 635 pieces of 26-foot-long bamboo poles were delivered to Longwood last month, representing Japanese timber bamboo, or madake (Phyllostachys bambusoides), and Meyer’s bamboo (Phyllostachys meyeri) of 4-inch and 2.5-inch diameters, respectively. These massive poles of bamboo were harvested from a specialty nursery and landscaping company with well-established groves in Georgia.”

In the Lens section is a collage that captures some of the magnificence of Teshigahara’s masterpiece. I cannot express the emotion that washed over me as I stood in awe and amazement, observing from as many vantage points that were physically possible. As I circled the intricate shape, each location offered a different shape and more intrigue. The combination of the Japanese principles of flower arrangement and the use of bamboo created a work of short-lived enchantment; its existence was ephemeral and a month long. The installation will be removed over the next few weeks, and the bamboo recycled: a fitting circle of visibility to invisibility that will remain in my mind’s treasure trove of site-specific art.

The display exemplifies the ability to take a simple natural form and honor it through various uses of the material. Bamboo has been a mainstay for decades in my gardens, and its limitless applications make it my favorite for outdoor sculptures and supports.

Bamboo exudes a Japanese spirit and that quality was front and center in this exhibition. From the extreme height and width of the sculpture to the small surprises in the interior and external to the contemporary style, the work captivated and inspired. It also encouraged much contemplation.

 

Nature Photography: Coexistence (No. 49) – Nature’s Colors Photomontage

04 November 2019

Lens:

Nature’s Colors? Photomontage; All Rights Reserved 2019 Sally W. Donatello

Click onto image to enlarge. Let me know your response to this photomontage. Prints are available upon request.

Pens:

How long will Mother nature’s colors last?

Note:

“Honeyland” (2019, runs one and 29 minutes): the film has gotten rave reviews. This documentary records the delicate balance and interdependence between human nature and Mother nature. The theme crosses boundaries with covert and overt life lessons. It is one of the best documentary of the year, and most awarded at the 2019 Sundance Film Festival. Here is a description from Rotten Tomatoes:

“Nestled in an isolated mountain region deep within the Balkans, Hatidze Muratova lives with her ailing mother in a village without roads, electricity or running water. She’s the last in a long line of Macedonian wild beekeepers, eking out a living farming honey in small batches to be sold in the closest city — a mere four hours’ walk away. Hatidze’s peaceful existence is thrown into upheaval by the arrival of an itinerant family, with their roaring engines, seven rambunctious children and herd of cattle. Hatidze optimistically meets the promise of change with an open heart, offering up her affections, her brandy and her tried-and-true beekeeping advice.It doesn’t take long however, before Hussein, the itinerant family’s patriarch, senses opportunity and develops an interest in selling his own honey. Hussein has seven young mouths to feed and nowhere to graze his cattle, and he soon casts Hatidze’s advice aside in his hunt for profit. This causes a breach in the natural order that provokes a conflict with Hatidze that exposes the fundamental tension between nature and humanity, harmony and discord, exploitation and sustainability. Even as the family provides a much-needed respite from Hatidze’s isolation and loneliness, her very means of survival are threatened.”

I highly recommend it. It can be rented or bought on iTunes. If you watch it, let me know your reaction.

Nature Photography: Coexistence (No. 48) – A Symbol of Autumn, Collage of Leaves

28 October 2019

Lens:

Autumn Leaves Photomontage; All Rights Reserved 2019 Sally W. Donatello

Click onto image to enlarge. Let me know your response to this collage. Prints are available upon request.

Pens:

We–the birds and I–love the rain, we love the saturation of the knee-deep dry earth, we love the promise of additional glory from the landscape, we love the emphasis on mood, we love the implication of hope.

Fortunately, yesterday I filled the bird feeders to the maximum. I watch as their feathers are lifted by the current intense rainfall and its fierce winds, the usual gangs are merrily dancing from suet feeders to seed feeders. The rain is not a deterrent.

These rains are desperately needed and I am joyous. Still, I just could not take myself to the Farmer’s Market. I felt as though the gusts would carry me to who knows where. The rain is sheeting, really pelting. How do the birds take it?

It’s a perfect day to withdraw into my usual Sunday rituals. And added to those mainstays are my mind experimentations with how my photography will align more with my current state of angst about the world’s dilemmas. There is an overwhelming amount to consider, ponder and synthesize.

I need to focus on a partnership between nature snd three broad but serious areas: climate change, conscious consumption and social justice. That’s the direction. Now I must do it. But how?

In the Lens section is a collage that represents the autumn season. Trees are spectacles during this metamorphosis from rainbow-like landscapes to gray tones. It’s a time that plays with the mind’s moods, and tries to prepare for much of the natural world to hibernate. Much can be said for slowing the senses and sensibilities as well as the mind and body. And I think the obvious that autumn is one of nature’s greatest lessons.

Note:

Margaret Renkl is an Opinion Columnist for The New York Times. Every article touches on her devotion, observations and passion for nature. She seems to write directly to me. I hope that you will read the article about the bird that stole my heart on first sighting decades ago. The hummingbird it truly one our most beloved of the natural world.

Nature Photography: Coexistence (No. 47) – See the Unseen

14 October 2019

Lens:

Spring Tulip; All Rights Reserved Copyright 2019 Sally W. Donatello

Click onto image to enlarge. Let me know your response to this image. Prints are available upon request.

Pens:

Each of the four seasons unveils elements that spark deeply emotional action and reaction. Still, autumn has a substantial hold on introspection. There is an internal force that weaves its way through my days and nights, giving attention to the seen and unseen, the noticed and unnoticed. From the dancing foliage to spent summer florals to bare trees to decomposing plants to migrating birds to hibernation to shifting daylight: the changing earth’s axis nods for us to pay attention to the world outside ourselves. This is a gift of autumn’s melodies.

The expanse of change requires a deep inhale and eventual long exhale. I tuck inwardly to assess, and then charge outward.

As geese fly overhead for autumn feeding grounds, my heart races with momentary contentment. Their distant quest resonates with their determination—determination made possible by the physical world of our planet and solar system.

Autumn’s timetable brings staggering resilience to the forefront. My spirit soars with ideas even as it puts some to sleep.

Contemplation has become the centerfold of my thoughts. I’ve been pondering my collages and photomontages, images made with the underlining theme of coexistence with nature. Through these works I can show the omniscience and omnipresence of Mother Nature: how she influences much of human nature, even as many do not recognize that bond and connection.

Nature is my muse and passion. She allows me to be who I need to be. She allows me to mobilize some of my inner thoughts into outward representations.

I’ve decided to observe (spy) on myself, relegate the synapses through new expressions to focus on my advocacy and reverence for the natural world: a world that simultaneously slows me down and inspires acceleration.

I want to create images with a new found emphasis and urgency about the climate crisis, which already has been an underlining theme. But it’s a process to find my aesthetic voice in this quest.

Our voices must echo across our neighborhoods, towns, urban centers, states, countries. It is a global crisis, one every single living creature shares in its reality and dangerous effects.

In the Lens section is an image that evokes my theme. While we march forth every day to our own singular beat, each path is riddled with the unseen–the unseen that exposes the beauty and the chaos of our world. The exposure of the tulip’s center is a macro view of its hidden secrets.

On a planet that we have tried to tame (to our detriment and the planet’s), I work at building more and more habitats for the wild things in my corner of the universe. Maybe its time for the wild to be in charge again.

Nature Photography: Coexistence (No. 46) – Deconstructed and Reconstructed Meadow Flowers Photomontage

30 September 2019

Lens:

Deconstructed Meadow Flowers Photomontage; All Rights Reserved 2019 Sally W. Donatello

Click onto image to enlarge. Let me know your response to this photomontage. Prints are available upon request.

Pens:

Memory is an evergreen phenomenon. Even yesterday’s experiences can rarely be recalled with precise accuracy. Bending a thought is more attuned to what the mind preserves. Still, the essence can be found, and its emotional gifts can be felt and stored.

Frequently, I ponder memory’s role in life: how it easily can manipulate how we act, how we behave, how it shapes us. Even the smallest of experiences needs hard work to recreate its fullest meaning.

This past week I decided to take a stroll in my wildflower meadow and explore more than its benefits. I was struck with thoughts of construction, destruction and reconstruction, because each flower head has vast elements—elements that spur eye-catching investigation and lengthy after thoughts.

Take one single cosmos and pluck a petal; it has dimensions that are worthy of examination: scalloped edges, fine lines of various colors at its base, and saturated hues that stun. Just one petal can induce deeply heartfelt awe and wonder.

And so the idea that a meadow is packed with such pleasures has me tinkering at each phase of a species’ evolution. Wildflowers are mirrors into the convergence and divergence of the universe’s playgrounds. And since I act as a year-round steward, they provide memories to savor over and over.

Photography provides memory. It gives us enough information to sense our original reaction and be able to store others. As I frame a subject, light changes visual perception, color influences, form and lines echo comparisons; all become part of the memory’s syncopation.

Long ago I decided that part of my adventure in nature would become more than an immediate reaction. As I gathered flower heads, I became more and more steeped in the deconstruction of the whole into its parts. I’d create a sculpture from flowers that already are sculptures; art birthing more art.

The gathering was in itself filled with unexpected discoveries that the mind slowed its cadence during that process. As I filled a small square container, it became the vessel for remembrance, a vessel for rainbows of florets, a vessel to inspire creativity, a vessel for memories.

Methodically, I made the arrangement, flat and on a white board. As humans we continually deconstruct natural habits, leaving bare and lifeless behind.

Sometimes the harvesting of the natural world is more than the sum of its intentions. The harvesting becomes symbolic of human dependence and human interference. In the Lens section I wanted to show my imagined deconstruction of the flowers, the up close and personal effects of how (symbolically) we construct, destruct and reconstruct our environments.

 

Nature Photography: Coexistence (No. 45) End of Summer Photomontage

23 September 2019

Lens:

Anemone, Garlic Chives and Geranium Flowers Photomontage; All Rights Reserved 2019 Sally W. Donatello

Click onto image to enlarge. Let me know your response to this photomontage. Prints are available upon request.

Pens:

Small and incremental whispers fill our lives. We decide which passions move our ability to listen, to seize those moments and fulfill their destiny. And these inner voices do shape our lives. We just must absorb and process them and then respond.

Every season has its staggeringly majestic natural wonders. And yet jewels consistently appear throughout the natural world; each floral discovery has its seductive powers that in the future will echo the past and remind us what is yet to be. They play a major role in my internal and external narrative.

At summer’s end there is a longing and a forecasting. Longing comes in the shape of what the season has brought, and forecasting is the lead for the uncertainty ahead. This past Friday the youth (plus anyone who is anxious and distraught about the reality of climate change and its worldwide effects, including me) from around the world united to strike against the inaction, especially from America’s government, to save our planet through a partnership between nature and human nature. A deep commitment could be seen across the faces of the participants. It was a startling moment in the history of our planet and proclamation of the “known” urgency to save Mother Earth and generations yet to be born.

And so I work harder and harder at how to make some difference. While I do the usual recycling, creating wildlife habitats, volunteering and awareness of my actions, I also use aesthetic, instinctual and philosophical symbols of each season to reinforce my reverence for Mother Nature and our dependence upon her well-being. This past week the blossoming end-of-the-season anemones, garlic chives and geraniums signaled to me the beauteous fragility of our times–times that could lead to the best versions of humanity. My hope is that it will.

In the Lens section my photomontage uses a deeply fuchsia-colored geranium as a backdrop to the sweetly almost pure-white anemones and fragile tiny white florets of garlic chives; wind flowers and delicate tasting herbs bring comfort and make my heart ache for their longevity: past years of their showiness stack memory upon memory. And I must ask: will the future hold a place for them?

Photomontage allows me to create the layers that are in nature and my mind’s imagination. Nothing stands alone; all is interdependent; each a testament to the evolution of species; each a tribute to the forces of nature; each a tear drop paying tribute to hope for a forever coexistence.

 

Nature Photography: Coexistence (No. 44) – Primordial Soup II

16 September 2019

Lens:

Primordial Soup (Second Try) Photomontage; All Rights Reserved 2019 Sally W. Donatello

Click onto image to enlarge. Let me know your response to this image. Prints are available upon request. 

Pens:

The cacophony of sound ended the still of the night, awakening me after a few hours sleep.  As the rhythm of the brief shower washed over my thoughts, I had hoped for a soaking rain. It’s been almost two months since we had showers or summer thunderstorms, I mean rain that truly nourishes and nurtures the earth and all its plantings.

Still in the morning the evidence of the night’s surprise shower filled my gardens. It’s as though I had spent time at a spa where mind and body had luxurious attention paid to them. Suddenly the notion of the crumbling world order and my sense of living in a parallel universe disappeared, being replaced by bliss. Even imagining the primordial soup (and what it has become) coerced me to think about a “second chance” mixture.

The Lens section holds my photomontage that represents how I envision the next primordial soup, another opportunity for the planet to learn from this present “iffy” experiment. Because while the current trajectory of humanity and the planet are, in my opinion, not on a viable (Unless dystopia is your hope.) path, I have to ask: Would another experiment do the planet justice?

Still, it is a philosophical conundrum to try and surmise just how we came to be the kind of animal that we are. Sure, science explains the biology, but how do we explain the full spectrum of our behavior?  How do we explain the human animal’s actions and the consequences that are real as much of my country’s current administration ignores the terrifying forecast? How much longer can my country sustain its land mass as the current administration seeks to plunder our lands, water and air?

And so I fill my bird feeders, plant native plantings, watch the birds and animals drink from my pond, and nourish the wildlife right in the middle of my small Mid-Atlantic town, where the wilds things roam. And as I drink my morning tea I salute the red-tailed hawk as it sits upon the lower roof of my home, watching for its next meal.

Note:

For those of you that are concerned about monarchs and other pollinators, here is a terrific article (hot off the press) about Tennessee’s successful roadside meadow plantings program. Margaret Renkl, who is a contributing opinion writer for The New York Times, wrote in today’s issue, “Tennessee Makes Way for the Monarchs.” Here is a quote:

“Wildflowers once grew in profusion on roadsides everywhere. The shoulder of a highway, from blacktop to tree line, is the perfect setting for flowers that require full sun; it’s a ribbon of meadow that unfolds before the eye for as long as the road goes on. During my childhood in Alabama, every highway and back road was alight with butterfly weed, which belongs to the family of milkweeds. In summer it formed a bright corridor of orange flowers so covered with orange monarch butterflies that from a distance it looked as though the flowers themselves were taking flight and floating on the breeze … Coming home from Alabama this month, I stopped at the Tennessee welcome center in Ardmore, stepped out of my car, and was astonished to discover a newly planted pollinator meadow just down the hill from the welcome center. Up close, the acre-size plot was blooming with asters and liatris and ironweed and two different kinds of goldenrod. The plot was so loud with insects that the roar of highway traffic, only yards away up the little hill, was faint by comparison. While I stood there, dumbfounded, a monarch butterfly floated past. I was too stunned to take its picture.”

 

 

Nature Photography: Coexistence (No. 43) – Wildflower Meadow in Summer’s Shadows

09 September 2019

Lens:

Wildflowers at Summer’s Finale; All Rights Reserved 2019 Sally W. Donatello

Click onto image to enlarge. Let me know your response to this image. Prints are available upon request. 

Pens:

We live in time, through time, trying to grab it or even ignore it. We can pretend, but it’s one of life’s fluidities that cannot be fully understood, manipulated or stopped. It is an ever-flowing continuum of living progress. It plays and taunts our reasoning. And Einstein’s ability to comprehend its physical qualities and workings are beyond my mind’s skills. Still, as summer begins its finale, time passes through me in visual dynamics. I almost, almost feel its cadence.

Every day a few more leaves scatter across the landscape to become blankets and compost for wintering gardens. Every day a few more annuals and perennials bare the unmistakable signature of spent flowers. As the warmth and markings of summer begin to recede, most living things embrace and prepare for the glorious days ahead as autumn approaches.

These changes begin to forecast inevitable moods of the winter season, moods that shift our perspective and inner emotions. That’s exactly why I strive to honor each stage on the seasonal continuum, seeing more clearly the majesty of every form of nature’s bountiful expression of life. To witness her ability through redefinition, dormancy and renewal is to be held captive to WHAT NATURE REPRESENTS.

At twilight this week the wildflower meadow in my upper garden was ablaze in small flashes of colors. They called for me to linger and enjoy how the light played with each annual and perennial. This dreamy eye catcher is an addition this year, and it has been a source of quiet calm and tranquility. It pulls me into its ability to produce continual splendor, even as rain has avoided our region for the last few weeks. I do not water this garden, leaving it to Mother Nature to tend to it needs. It has not been deterred.

As the sun sets in summer’s shadows, the flowers are given a reprieve from the day’s heat. And that allows them to bounce back if necessary. Still, the masses of seeds (about 5,000 and germination rate was high) that I scattered seem to be in the right location to live out their longevity and bring me dazzling moments of serenity during autumn and next spring.

Note:

I am awaiting this month’s publication of Isabella Tree’s Wilding: Returning Nature to Our Farm (2019). Here’s a description from Amazon that gives you enough spice to understand my enthusiasm.

“An inspiring story about what happens when 3,500 acres of land, farmed for centuries, is left to return to the wild, and about the wilder, richer future a natural landscape can bring.
For years Charlie Burrell and his wife, Isabella Tree, farmed Knepp Castle Estate and struggled to turn a profit. By 2000, with the farm facing bankruptcy, they decided to try something radical. They would restore Knepp’s 3,500 acres to the wild. Using herds of free-roaming animals to mimic the actions of the megafauna of the past, they hoped to bring nature back to their depleted land. But what would the neighbors say, in the manicured countryside of modern England where a blade of grass out of place is considered an affront? In the face of considerable opposition the couple persisted with their experiment and soon witnessed an extraordinary change. New life flooded into Knepp, now a breeding hotspot for rare and threatened species like turtle doves, peregrine falcons, and purple emperor butterflies.”

Those who follow this blog you know that this story of nature’s reclamation is an example of what gives me a sense of optimism in the face of climate change: Each of us doing whatever moves us to live a sustainable life, one that takes little from the planet and gives back in order to restore its health and well being. And the story of Knepp fills me to the brim.

Nature Photography: Coexistence (No. 42): Dried Hydrangea Photomontage

26 August 2019

Lens:

Dried Hydrangea Photomontage, Autumn 2017, All Rights Reserved 2019 Sally W. Donatello

Click onto image to enlarge. Let me know your response to this image. Prints are available upon request. 

Pens:

There is something inherently captivating about a plant that can change year-by-year its blossoms’ colors by its response to the soil’s acidity and alkalinity. The range of hues from pinks to purples from greens to blues is sensational in their fresh and dry state. Hydrangeas are one of Mother nature’s most fascinating and intriguing flowering plants.

This singular species dazzles me and brings me to a serene place—a place influenced by the delicacies and intricacies of the flowerheads and their ability to still a moment for amusement and contemplation. Each of us has experiences where some form of nature tranquilizes and incites. While provoking emotions, the very sighting of summer and autumn hydrangeas moves the energy level back and forth from low (quiet) to high (enthusiasm).

To see a hydrangea bursting with boughs is to inhale summer’s bounty. And then exhale how life touches the senses and infuses them with memories. I’m pulled as though a magnet has encircled and possesses me, making sure that I breathe in the glory of the plant’s magic.

Years ago a friend gave me a black-stemmed hydrangea, and it always produces surprises: one year greener than green blossoms, another pink ones, than another purple. Each year seems to outdo the previous. This season the blooms are spritely almost neon green, but they probably will become more subdued as they dry.

My excitement continues to increase as the weeks bring more intense colors, and I cannot help but gather them for display and drying. The dried flower is as unique as the fresh.

And so each hydrangea bloom suspends time, giving me space to feel the moment and just be with its charm. Nature provides and I am captive to her omnificence.