A field of summer

It’s a true summer’s day –  blue sky above with white patchy clouds, and the sun is beating down with its warmth.  We are driving along some county roads in northern Wisconsin.  We’ve passed fields of green soybeans and acres of corn, all thriving in spite of the late planting season and the copious amounts of rain this year.  But up ahead is a bright and welcome sight — at an intersection there is a sea of yellow on one side of the road.  It stretches off to the trees in the distance, and it is a glorious field of sunflowers.  Faces to the east, backlit by the sun, the large blossoms are nodding in the wind.  To me this is the epitome of summer, and I’ll soak it in to remember during the not-so-summery days that lie ahead.

Water lilies

As we enter the last third of summer, our lakes in Minnesota and Wisconsin are starting to bloom with water lilies.  Looking across the water surface you can see areas of white and yellow.  We’ve seen muskrats enjoying a meal of water lilies, and deer will also wade into the water to graze on them.  This water lily is not endanger of being eaten as I photographed it at the Marjorie McNeely Conservatory in Como Park.  Like its “wild” relatives it was happy to open its petals to the bright sun and soak up the trailing end of summer.

Oars and a paddle

Sometimes photographs present themselves directly — a beautiful sunset reflected in a lake, or a lovely flower that opens its blossoms to reveal its textures and colors.  And other times a photograph can be more subtle, calling out for attention many times before it’s actually received.  I walked past this shed countless times, looking at it but not really noticing it.  And then one morning the sunlight came in from an angle and illuminated the oars and paddle with a lovely glow.  That’s when I saw it.  The oars with their oar locks are weather beaten and old; they show their wear and tear proudly.  The paddle lost its paint many years ago and is actually cracked at the bottom.  The collection struck me as a homage to summer days, old boats, old resorts, and probably some big fishing tales.

Lupines and turtles and bears, oh my!

Spring has arrived in the northwoods of Wisconsin.  Driving along a county road we saw (and avoided) many turtles in the road and beside it.   We also saw the lupine blooming in certain areas.  It’s low to the ground and the light needs to be from the right angle to see it’s lovely colors, otherwise it blends in with the grass, dirt and sand.  We rounded a corner and I admired a large patch of lupines, noting that I needed to return to photograph it.  As I was studying the flowers I looked beyond them and saw something looking back at me.  On the edge of the woods, blending in with the shadows, was a black bear.  He looked at me and then ambled back into the woods.  Needless to say, when I returned the next day to photograph the lovely flowers I was very aware of my surroundings.  A slight rustle in the woods and I stopped to see who or what it was.  This time it wasn’t my friend the bear, but it was only a squirrel.

End of a spring day

It had been a windy and cloudy day, but as the evening wore on the wind began to die down.  We were fishing as the air became still.  Eagles were flying overhead and the crappies were biting.  The dark clouds were still above but the sun moved below them lighting up the opposite shore.  The leaves were full on some of the trees and yet others had only begun to leaf out, filtering the sunlight as it came through the trees.  The low light and the calmness created a beautiful reflection of the end of a spring (finally!) day.