Found

I'm a firm believer that the best photographs are the ones you happen to find along the way in the midst of your daily routine. Last weekend on a grey misty morning while I was walking my dog through my tiny hometown, I came across this scene. I must have passed this bagel store hundreds of times, but it wasn't until I noticed its interplay with this colorful array of skateboards that I appreciated its humor. For a more poetic take, go to Recovery Thru My Lens.

Spine

On Sunday I took a drive to the North Fork and came across a community garden in New Suffolk. Since I started my little garden this summer where I planted mostly tomatoes and was unexpectedly more successful than I could have imagined, I'm drawn to plots of vegetables that I find in unlikely places. This unusual variety of Swiss chard with its yellow spine was so stunning that I had to take a photograph. 

Serenity

No matter how long I live near the water, I still need to remind myself that even in the off-season, when the temperature starts to dip, I can jump in my car and in ten minutes I'll be where the water meets the sky, where there's some serenity for me and plenty for you too. 

In fact if you visit my other blog, Recovery Thru My Lens, you'll read the same words but find another view of this scene. I couldn't chose between the two, so I posted one on each site. Let me know which one you prefer...

Flyer

Oooh, I've been so remiss here...life has gotten away with me these days. ...

But here's something wonderful I captured the other day in front of my local sushi restaurant. Little Elvin, the son of the owner whom I've known for about twenty years. When I saw him with his Radio Flyer, I couldn't resist his adorable stance and expression. The contrasty midday light presented quite a challenge for a portrait, but the shadow on his face seems to compliment his mood.

For a more whimsical take on this image...go to Recovery Thru My Lens!

Capture

Although I complain about too much technology to the point of creating an entire collection, called Phantoms, to show how it's the demise of society as I've known it, here's an instance where it definitely came in handy.

When I go to the beach lugging beach chairs, umbrella, towels, books, etc, I leave my camera behind to lighten the load and avoid damaging my equipment. However, now that the i-Phone takes such good pictures, I can whip it out if I see something I can't resist.

Sure, I can't control the f-stop, shutter speed or the focus and the file size is limited, but when there's a choice between capturing the image or not, I  succumb.

In this case, if I would have waited to return the next day with my Canon, this creature would certainly have been washed away.

For a more personal take on the alligator, go to Recovery Thru My Lens.

Signs

This summer many of my posts seem to revolve around the weather. Maybe it's because it's been so unusual, so volatile this year. Maybe it has to do with climate change or our unpredictable economy, but most likely it has to do with my changing perspective.
Since creating my newest blog, Recovery Thru My Lens, I've grown even more connected to the natural world that has always provided so much to see. But now I'm seeing it in a more personal way as signs of what's to come.
While attending a meeting during a torrential storm a few nights ago, there was an eerie yellow light filling the doorway during the break.
"Look, it's a rainbow," someone shrieked.
And indeed, there it was arching over the church next door.
In the middle of a very stressful week, it was the sign I needed most.
To see a more poetic rendition go to Renew...

Girls

As the mother of two daughters, I couldn't resist this group convening before a T-ball game at my grandsons birthday party earlier this month. As the boys on the Blue team chased one another around the field, the girls on the Red team congregated in the field for some instruction. 

And as my husband dispelled some baseball basics, I couldn't help but notice how they listened so intently with their distinct personalities stamped on their faces and displayed by their statures.

How did the notion evolve that nurture can trump nature when it comes to the difference between the sexes?

Visit Recovery Thru My Lens for a more lyrical perspective.

Cycles

The first step in taking good photographs is becoming your own best scout.
Here's what I call my signature image; the one I have printed on my business card. Taken seven years ago, I have never written about it although I've told the story of how I scouted it out many times.
That week in June, my younger daughter was suffering from stomach pain. After a day or so, we took her to the hospital and they finally diagnosed her with appendicitis. With surgery scheduled for the next morning, we went out for dinner passing this field just after the sun had dipped below the horizon when I witnessed this wonderful sight. Alas...I didn't have a camera with me.
The following evening after a successful operation, I rushed home collected my medium format film camera and returned there at the same time of evening. Standing in the mud in my white sandals, I captured this image now called Water Cycle.
For a poetic rendition of this image, visit Recovery Thru My Lens!

Spontaneity

For me, spontaneity is the key to a good portrait. I've never been particularly good at posing people. And even when I try, they're uncomfortable and too conscious of the camera to allow their true selves to emerge.

Here's a prime example. Last Saturday I crammed my grandson's new bike, his birthday present, into my back seat of my Honda Insight where it barely fit. Then, I proceeded to his party held around the block at our village park. I had hoped that he would be playing in the field or otherwise occupied when I arrived so he wouldn't see the handle bar jutting out of the window.

However, they pulled up right beside my car when we arrived at the same time. He jumped out and peered through the window. Luckily, my camera was resting on the passenger seat and I had the presence of mind to pick it up.
For a more poetic rendition, visit Recovery Thru My Lens!

Imperfect

On a drizzly spring day a few weeks ago, I was fortunate to be invited for lunch at my friend Ellen's home. It's always a treat to receive that particular invitation because Ellen is a private chef. Spontaneously, she can throw together a meal from whatever she finds in her fridge and garden that's more scrumptous than any restaurant around.

Beyond the wonderful fish chowder and deer tongue lettuce sprinkled with chive flowers, I was delighted by what lay on the table. Longing to photograph the two pears bathed in natural light, I chided myself for not bringing my camera. But there, beside my napkin lay my iPhone. Dare I stoop to that level, become just another iPhone shooter.
You have no choice, I told myself pressing the silly "app." Although one pear is marred, the rooster's head is cut off and the file is half the size of my Canon's digital capability, I couldn't get this image out of my head. To read a more lyrical rendition of this post, visit Recovery Thru My Lens.

Drift

There's something magical about sandbars. Usually they appear here at the end of the summer, but this one materialized early in June five years ago. This is one of my favorite beach images, yet this is the first time I am writing about it.
While relaxing on a Quogue beach one afternoon, I noticed how the shoreline appeared severed to the left. The next day I returned with my medium-format film camera late in the afternoon when the light was low. Stationed in this spot, composition ready, I pre-visualized the image and waited for someone to come walking into the scene. After several passed, this couple dressed in white mosied into the frame skirting the inner waterway on either side.
For a long time I had called this photograph simply Sandbar. A few days ago, however, I re-titled it Drift after writing a short verse with it in mind for my other blog, Recovery Thru My Lens. Take a look and find out why...

Irony

On the heels of my quintessential cherry tree image, I thought this would be an interesting follow-up. Each spring I love the sight of petals dropped like confetti on lawns and roadways; and each spring I try to find a way to photograph these carpets of color. A few weeks ago, I made an attempt with the addition of my Shadow.
Last weekend on my way to my daughter's house, I noticed this swath of pink beside the road and pulled over. Shooting from above, they appeared like unremarkable specks with no real perspective. However when I sunk down to my heels, I found something more compelling.
A first glance it was just a rusty drain; but the more I looked the more I liked the irony it presented. Here were these beautiful bits of nature adorning the sewer made by man that would eventually suck them in.

It's these surprises, these counterpoints that can make an image more meaningful. For a more lyrical rendition of my thoughts regarding this image checkout my other blog, Recovery Thru My Lens.

Rain

Generally, there's a misconception about photographing in the rain. That being, why bother?

A few weekends ago, I was on the Upper West Side of Manhattan to see a play, Hindsight by Simon Van Booy, a friend of mine from graduate school. Although it was gray and gloomy outside and I knew we'd be indoors for most of the time, I carried my camera with me. 

After the performance, we headed south walking between the raindrops along Broadway and passing Fairway where I used to buy groceries years before when I lived in the neighborhood right after graduating from college.
For old-time sake, I raised my camera and captured this scene just as a taxi zoomed by. Besides its personal nostalgia, I love how the yellow and orange complements the blue awning---and how the cloudy sky works as a giant diffuser balancing the light and making the colors pop so naturally...