A couple of weeks ago I wrote about memories and the ability of something or someone to bring an avalanche of thoughts and feelings to the forefront of one’s mind. In the past week and a half our yard has been filled with the sweet scent of peonies in full bloom. The blooms has been so large and heavy that they have weighted down the long stems of the plants, causing some of them to droop all the way to the lawn. Unfortunately their blooms and aromas are short-lived, and yet maybe that’s one of the reasons they are so appreciated when they are in their full bloom. My parents have always had peonies in their yard and I’ve been lucky to bring a couple of their plants here to Minnesota to add to our yard. Needless to say, my memories of peonies include my mom and dad, as well as their parents whose gardens and yards also were filled with peonies. It’s a delight and an honor for me to be able to continue this tradition.
flowers
Why flower photography?
I’ve been trying to understand why I am drawn to photographing flowers when there are so many other things that one could use as a photographic subject. Flowers are generally available, although in Minnesota they are not in their “own” environment during our snowy winter months, but can be found in the humidity and warmth of a conservatory or a floral shop. Yet just because a particular flower is blooming does not mean that a beautiful photograph can be made of it. The best conclusion I have come to is that I am drawn to color — the bright colors, the subtle colors, the hues and shades, and the combinations of multiples colors together. This photo is of a plant that many people would not even consider growing for its beauty — catmint. It can become big and it can become floppy. And yet in its own way it is a beautiful combination of shades of lavender and purple. Today I found this stand of catmint near some salmon-colored poppies. The two seemed to be subtly and beautifully complimenting each other in the soft and wonderful way that only nature can provide.
The power of memory
I was out photographing early this morning at a nearby garden. It was still and peaceful with the sun slowing dawning an a clear day with the promise of summer. As I wandered through the garden my eyes were stopping on different flowers and shrubs. But when I turned around and glimpsed a rhododendron in bloom I stopped in my tracks. In Minnesota we do not have many rhododendrons that can survive our cold winter climate. So when I saw this beautiful white rhodie I was quickly taken back to the time I lived in the Pacific Northwest. There, with the temperate marine air rhododendrons grow to be the size of trees, their blooms the size of large bowls. All this was going through my mind as I photographed this lovely white rhododendron that was blooming its heart out, but was only three feet tall. I realized how easily we associate things and how powerful our memory can be. In our home garden we have three peony plants with buds that will be bursting into bloom in the next week. One of these plants was purchased in Minnesota, the other two I brought from my parents’ home in Kansas. It is a wonderful memory I have of growing up and having the peonies blooming on the side of the house. How lucky I am to be able to surround myself with items that bring back delightful memories, or to happen upon something as simple as a small rhododendron that holds fond remembrances.
The smell of lilacs
One of the most anticipated events of spring is the blooming of lilacs. Although their bloom time is short it is one that is noticeable throughout our area. All along the alleys, highways, and even interstates, lilacs are used as buffers to noise. They can grow to be huge bushes, towering way over the houses, with their blooms stretching upwards into the sky. We took our canoe out for a short paddle and fishing adventure one evening this past week. By the time we returned to the house the sun had set and the night had become very still. The air temperature was warm and moist from the rains of earlier in the day. As we unloaded our canoe and gear we were surrounded by the sweet smell of the lilacs that was lingering in the night air. It was delightful and memorable, and I made a point to cut some of the lilacs to bring into the house, trying to extend the time and appreciation of their short-lived spring scent.
Spring is here
With a delightful flourish spring is here! The past week has been a roller coaster of temperatures, from 39 degrees to 88 degrees, from sun to rain, from thunderstorms and peach-colored skies to clouds of gray. You name it, we’ve had it, including reports of snow flurries mixed in with the rain of yesterday. All this moisture with intervals of heat and sun have caused the trees to leaf out, tulips to bloom, lilacs to blossom. Such a great amount of activity packed into a short time-frame. When I lived in the Pacific Northwest spring lasted from February through June — probably the longest season of the year. Now that I’m in Minnesota our spring seems to be anywhere from two weeks to a month long. We linger in winter, jump through spring and straight into summer. Our spring days are presently filled with the sounds of birds chirping and lawn mowers being started. Neighbors are getting reacquainted after the cold winter. People are walking, running, biking – anything to be outside. Our backyard has become filled with color — green leaves and grass, yellow and red tulips, and the deep burgundy of the new peony shoots. It’s a joy to be outside to take it all in.
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