When you read tree I hope you didn’t start to snore z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z
And then as we walked to the car I said, “Steve, that is the same tree, backlit from the stadium lights!”
Tried to find out the use of the building online with no result. Steve saw a sign that said
I needed Frank Relle of Frank Relle Photography in New Orleans to instruct me how to light up the building at night, He is a master of night photography.
But it was a magnificent tree.
Since the family is visiting , Erika wanted to see her longtime friend Liz. We drove out to the country today to see Liz and her family’s new home and all the hard work they have done (continue to do) to make it spectacular. During the house tour she shared her attempt at Bonsai.
She made us smile. It can’t be easy.
I should have asked her more about it but the little brown growth had a prime spot in a sunny window in the kitchen, even though it had seen better days.
Not sure if she took a workshop or class.
Here ‘s a link to the Brooklyn Botanic article on Bonsai Small Tree, Big Heart by Julian Velasco
And here is one of the photographs of a Bonsai tree at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden I took in June when I visited my sister.
Probably more what Liz had in mind. Bonsai means “planted in a tray” and the definition and history is here
Jack, Anna, Maura and Michael got out of the van after swimming practice.
The sound of a chain saw goes right through me. The sound that is…..
Shot with the iPhone camera- the kids counted twenty rings
The men are coming back to grind up the trunk. Mark and Erika are thinking of planting a Dogwood Tree.
The firewood shot with the iPhone camera.
and the before photo of the Ash Tree in the front yard
Mark and Erika said the tree had been hit by lightning.
My dad used to play The Ash Grove on the piano.
Another in my winter tree series. Actually I drove through the park today and the snow is gone. See the tree below.
I wanted to post the trees in silhouette, though and the sinking sun behind the trunk.
It ‘s the warmth of the sun on the snow that appeals to me.
My drives through the park after school on my way home have help me appreciate the beauty of the winter.
A different tree but this is the angle of the sun at the time I was driving into the entrance of Highland Park.
Today on the way home, the car thermometer read 63 degrees. Here’s what my trip into the park yielded Monday afternoon. Find the car to check the scale of the tree. Because of the mottled peeled bark, I believe it’s a giant sycamore. Long shadows and blue sky with pretty clouds made it feel like April.
Back to the park after school. I was later today. The sun was sinking in the west and this was facing east. When I wrote taillight it didn’t look correct but I checked it out with Merriam- Webster online and it is spelled right! I thought about cropping out the car end but changed my mind. I think it adds perspective and information, allowing one to judge how tall the pine tree is. It looks dead to me, but I am not an arborist.
Looks like the snow glows from the reflected setting sun.
It is a pine tree, isn’t it?
Scroll down for the crop with the dog walker and his dogs in the distance. Didn’t see him when I shot the photo.
Another color photograph that looks black and white. Shot with a EF Canon 50mm 1.2L Lens- 500 ISO f/16, 125 shutter. Wish I had tried a few more settings at the time but wanted to get home.
Thursday the temperature is to be in the 50’s. Unusual fluctuation- one day twenties and snow and ice, another day about zero, now up to sixty?
Something feels off.
I was sitting at the red light. Saw the gorgeous tree blossoms. Quick shot through the windshield. No time to capture what happened next. The man and dog appear from behind the barrier and return to the woman who was waiting for them.
And when I got home, looked on the computer screen, and read the words on the green sign. Oh my. Just my kind of shot. Inadvertent, but still……
The sycamore’s stump was ground up into mulch yesterday. I saw the equipment in the street but when I got my camera it had pulled away. Even the pile of mulch has been removed as of today. As Beth says it’s the cycle of life. The follow up to I Used to Live on a Tree-Lined Street post.
A couple of blocks from school there is a tree that grows out of the ground on a angle. This is the effect it has on the object below, when I straighten it out in the viewfinder and shoot.
There are the geometric ones-
acute, right, obtuse or
how we look at things.
As I left school, I saw the snow on the tree. When I walked across the street I saw the Scarecrow people and the ever-blooming flowers in the hanging pot! Happy December
Squirrels! They ransack bird feeders. Had one in the fireplace the month of July a few years back. Steve had to take it down the street and he wore oven mitts and a parka in July, carrying a cage. Neighbors must have gotten a look. I am sure it ran right back to our house after he released it in the park. Some call them rats with bushy tails and they are from the order of rodentia. Their beady eyes dart about. But just look at where they live! The colors in person were even more alive. Fred Peterson, President of the Pittsburgh Poetry Society read a poem at Maker’s Mark about the delicacy at the family table- squirrel brains. Not part of my cultural upbringing so totally unappetizing to me. When Laura moved to an apartment in college, one of the housemates had one as a pet. This was a tree worth driving around the block. This is an unretouched photo taken on a glorious autumn afternoon. Closeup of nest- scroll down for second image
Walking into the room this morning I saw the oak tree catch the morning sun, reflect it onto the art room tables. Warm fire aglow. A stunning welcome to the beginning of the work day. I dialed the combination to get the camera out of my locker.
Garden Goddess Sculpture by Charlie Holden, Master Puppeteer (contact info here) installed in Joan’s garden. Scroll down for entire body view.
Charlie makes birdhouses out of tree parts and I gave one to the grandchildren for Christmas last year. A bird family moved in this Spring.