Tuesday, September 27, 2011

In The Field

September is just flying by! Each year I set my sights on savoring its splendor and it's gone, just like that...This month I've been besieged by a series of "fix-it" projects--updating my online gallery (almost done!), repairing hurricane damage to my chimney and roof, and reconstructing a few teeth--keeping me from getting outdoors with my camera.
So here's another autumn image taken some years back that's inspiring me to get out in the fields, so full here on the East End this time of year. Again, notice the square format and the diagonal lines of color that pull the eye into the image. By stepping a few feet to the right, I was able to make a very still subject come alive. Check-out the long island collection on my site, to see more examples.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Brush Fire

As summer comes to a close and we edge toward the first day of fall, I recall this image taken several years back in a nearby park. That autumn afternoon when I tromped around with my medium format camera (notice the square frame) in the late afternoon as the sun dipped down, the light skimmed through the trees illuminating this burnt orange brush.
And as I'm apt to do, I stopped down to a wide aperture, f4 or 5.6, to accentuate the foreground and throw the background into a blur.
With the drought continuing in Texas and the wildfires still burning out of control, this image seemed to signify the coming season when mother nature unfurls her unrelenting fury as well as her most exquisite beauty.

Sunday, September 11, 2011


A few months ago at around 6pm on a June evening, I heard a crash in my backyard. The trunk of a tree had cracked and fallen just over the fence from my neighbor's property onto mine. No storm, no wind, no warning; a giant maple was strewn across my lawn just like that.
Fortunately it hadn't fallen on my house, my dog, or on anyone outside. But was it some kind of warning? Were the gods trying to tell me something? And now I had a major mess to deal with just as I had finished sprucing up my yard for the summer. Who was going to clean it up? How much was it going to cost?
The following weekend my grandson came to sleep over. When he ran out back to play, he screamed "Grammy what happened?"
As I explained, his eye grew wider and wider. "Can I climb up there?" he grinned with glee.
For a few moments I hesitated. What I had viewed as a catastrophe (albeit minor) and a major nuisance, this child perceived as wonderful. The next morning he jumped out of bed, slipped on his sneakers and ran outside in his pajamas to play.
On this hallowed day, this image gives me some hope for the future. No matter what befalls us, what we must face in this life, the human spirit does prevail.

Friday, September 2, 2011


This week I'm feeling quite grateful. Grateful for the bulb that burns on my desk while I work and read day or night; grateful for the flame that flickers to boil water for coffee or tea; grateful for the warm water that flows from my faucet to wash my hands and hair.
Yet, although Hurricane Irene spared us here on Long Island, I can't help but fret about the future, that nature's fury will continue to accelerate.
Yes, the water didn't rush up the one block from the bay to my house and flood my first floor as I feared it might for the first time since living near the coast for almost 20 years. And although I spent just one night away from home and lost power for just two days, I'm concerned about those affected in other areas, especially those devastated upstate and in Vermont.
Unless we heed nature's warnings and work tirelessly to find a better balance between consumption and conservation, we'll have to hope that we all can learn how to walk on water.