Post-Thanksgiving

Readers, I have been remiss. Here's my tribute to Thanksgiving rather late this year. I got so wrapped up in my preparations, I simply forgot, but I hope you enjoy this one---especially the little guy bent over in the front, rather poultry-like. The shallow depth of field I used here seems to emphasize his diminutive stature...don't you think?

Flaming

As Hurricane Sandy heads toward us, I'm wondering how bad it will really be, how much work I should do. For Irene last year, I moved my computer and all my photographs upstairs in case of flooding; and all we got was some wind. Hmmm.....this time they're saying it could be the worst storm ever. This image comes to mind as I wonder whether we'll lose power. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could convert all the leaves flaming outdoors into the energy we might need to cook and read by? Wouldn't that be the ulitimate in sustainability?

Miracle

It's a miracle! That's the best way I can describe what I saw through my lens when I leaned over some shallow ice in my favorite park yesterday around noon. I had been circling the pond at Sears Bellows Park in Hampton Bays. With the temperature below freezing, I had thought I might find some interesting ice formations, but on my second loop around nothing inspired.

Then as my dog, Copper, skidded across the ice, I looked down and noticed an array of leaves frozen beneath the surface. Moving my lens in and out, from side to side, I started to create a variety of collage-like images.

Then this frosted heart appeared before my eyes. I know it sounds corny, like a bible story. But it was so divine Tiffany couldn't have come close. At first, I thought it was my imagination. I zoomed in closer and closer examining its many facets, its three chambers. It loomed larger, captured my fancy.

But moreover, it presented the perfect metaphor for this holiday season when so many have broken hearts, have lost hope for the future. Yes, times are terribly tough, many people has lost their jobs and their homes, the tides are rising, the war continues...

However, if we all just take a few moments to stop, breathe, and look around, miracles can happen and will if we just believe...

Please share this with your friends and family through e-mail or on your Facebook page if you are so inspired...the link is www.merylspiegel.blogspot.com

Holy

In observance of Yom Kippur, this seemed like the right image to post today. Although I don't go to synagogue like I did in my youth and find other ways to connect spiritually, this highest of Jewish holy days still weighs on me. Marked as the day to atone for our sins and memorialize the dead, I still try to fast, but usually don't make it to sundown.

Interesting how this sad day falls in September, the most beautiful time of year here on the East End. The water has warmed, the air has turned crisp, and the ski seems bluer. As I walked along the beach in Westhampton the other day, I took pictures observing all three. But then I came upon this black rock that had washed up on shore and was shimmering in the sand, soft to the touch, filled with pores. I leaned in close, was again captivated by all the nooks and crannies.

Gazing at it now, I wonder if those are my sins or the people I have lost. Whatever the case, it's definitely holy...

Peach

Peach is one of my favorite colors. While most houses here on the East End are painted grey or tan, mine is painted a pale peach. And my living room which I redecorated about two years ago is covered in a more vibrant shade of that hue. After a few trips to Mexico, I was inspired to brighten up the long, wet winters here by the shore with some color from the tropics.

So when I was walking my dog last weekend and spotted this splash of peach, I stopped and sank down to my heels trying to get as close as possible with my camera. Within a few moments, I was lost in the color and texture; the nooks and crannies grew more interesting to my eye than the object as a whole.

While I usually specify exactly where I unearth my images, I'd like to leave this one up to your imagination. Leave a comment below telling me what you think it is and where it was discovered...

Three's Company

"Two's company; three's a crowd." How many times have we heard that old adage?

As the oldest of three children, I can't agree more that three or any odd number is challenging when it comes to relationships between people. "The love triangle" and "the fifth wheel" are two prime examples.

However, when it comes to visual relationships in photography--or any of the arts for that matter--three seems to be just the right number. Unlike our psyches which strive for balance and symmetry, the eye seems to prefer when things are thrown askew.

So during a recent workshop on still life at the Westhampton Library when we took a walk down the street to a little farmstand, I pointed out these three onions thrown haphazardly into a basket to my teenage students.

Looking downwards, one lifted her camera and peered through her tiny viewfinder. The corners of her mouth turned up, then she nodded and pressed the shutter. What more could a teacher ask for? I haven't seen her version yet, but this is mine.

Swirl

Sunday was my daughter's 20th birthday. As part of the celebration, Jackie requested that we have brunch at Love Lane Kitchen on the North Fork, about half an hour from our home on the South Fork. When we sat down, I ordered iced coffee right away as the day was heating up. Ironically, I had been at the same eatery the day before when out shooting in the area with two fellow photographers, and was looking forward to the iced coffee again, half caf/half decaf.

When the server set it down before us, Jackie picked up the tiny vessel of milk and started pouring. "That looks cool," she said as a ribbon of white swirled through the caramel, "Mom, take a picture!"

Not a problem. I had been snapping away as I stared at her and her boyfriend, who was visiting for the weekend---not quite comprehending how 20 years had passed and what an amazing person my Jackie had become.

To avoid the flash I set the ISO at 800, the F-stop at 5.6 and had no choice but to shoot at 1/8 second, very slow to hand-hold. But I held steady pressing the camera body to my forehead. In this case, the show shutter speed and shallow depth of field worked to advantage, emphasizing the motion inherent in this still life.

When Jackie saw the image, she said "my nails look good; good thing I just had a manicure."