Does it get any better than snowshoeing into the sunset? I think not. We've been waiting so long for real snow outside . . .
. . . . that inside we were happy to be formulaic in our crafting. Sometimes the familiar is most fun. I do think it's time to do more snowflake photography!
Do you ever feel overwhelmed by the big picture? You know, The Big Picture that is your life--and the myriad decisions and upheavals that go with it.
I do.
That usually means it's time to turn to the Small Picture, or in this case, pictures. Thank goodness for a good camera that sees the world better than my own eyes. Thank goodness for the natural beauty of our little corner of the world--and for color, shape, texture, design.
And for seasons: I welcome summer while being grateful for the reprieve that spring brought.
. . . upon waking this morning. And you?
It seemed for so long that spring was never coming to our little corner of the world, but at last, we have proof. Snow glories and crocuses! Tiny, fleeting--but bits of color amidst the brown bracken and downed leaves of autumn.
My daughter and I were inspired to make this purple lady to celebrate. (Don't let the photo fool you; she is a mere 2 inches tall.) I'm starting to think purple is an April color. Might be time to review the color book of the seasons . . .
With our most recent snowstorm abating, but flakes still falling, I wanted to capture images of snow crystals. (Snowflakes are clusters of individual snow crystals.) I really needed my tripod but couldn't find it, and so these photos are the best an amateur like me could do with a macro lens and no tripod. I am no Snowflake Bentley, and that's okay.
I put a few sheets of dark blue and black paper outside for about 20 minutes (the crystals will melt otherwise) before I attempted to take photographs. The fibers in the paper look huge under the macro lens, almost like I was taking pictures of snowflakes on a shag rug. Next time, I would try taking photographs using a piece of plexiglass as a substrate.
I learned many things doing this, and I'll list them for you in no particular order in case you want to try taking similar photos.
1. Choose a smooth-grained dark piece of paper (or clear plexi) on which to capture the snow crystals. Let it sit outside awhile so that the crystals don't melt on it.
2. Use a tripod and a macro lens.
3. Consider using manual focus over auto focus. My husband looked at my photos and said they would have turned out better with manual focus. However, I have poor eyesight and could hardly see the nearly-microscopic bits of snow, let alone determine whether I had them in focus, so I continued with the auto focus option.
4. Watch out for wind. Be patient, but act quickly when you spot a beautiful crystal. They often melt upon landing, or get an arm broken when another crystal lands on top.
5. Try taking photographs at intervals throughout the day. I noticed that the size and quality of the snow crystals changed as the day went on. Larger snowflakes were obviously easier to see and photograph.
My results are not spectacular; clearly I am no professional. (I increased the contrast in the photographs to make it easier to see the crystals.) The kids and I were thrilled nonetheless. It was magical to see these gorgeous bits of nature up close.
This is one time where I would urge you to click on each photo to see it larger.
Tomorrow I'll share some books we've enjoyed about snowflakes, including those that inspired me to attempt to photograph the crystals.
Do you remember this post? I had such fun making those designs. I haven't had much time or energy this fall to make things, but I managed a few push-drill leaf compositions, as seen below. One has to do something with all of the leaves that the small folk collect . . . .
Spring in our part of the world is full of small gestures. An unseasonably warm morning lets us take our art outdoors. My children find pleasure in simple forms. Autumn's leaves are blown aside to reveal starry white blossoms. The neighbor's eggs are transformed with plant dyes. The forest, still brown, offers a surprise bouquet of daffodils.
Should the small things be such a surprise? Do I doubt the return of the light? Do I wonder at the reawakening of the bulbs, the song of the birds, the fulfillment of faith that always happens? I do doubt it. And yet it happens anyway, this renewal: full of grace, and gently insisting that I believe.
I'm thinking about birds. How can I not? The birds outside my door make a gorgeous cacaphony--I guess the word for that is symphony--so loud, so varied, and so constant that it sounds like I'm in an aviary. It's remarkable. I've never lived anywhere with so much bird song.
The sad truth is that I can't tell you what birds I'm hearing. I can see and hear some robins and chickadees, but I know there are others. Our hawk is out there, of course; the woodpeckers, too. We've seen a cardinal pair. But who else? We've got the guidebook and binoculars out for the season, hoping to finally learn something this year.
Here's another book we've got out, a wonderful resource with illustrations and audio recordings of each bird.
This book about creativity is one of my favorites--I know I've written about it before. It would be a lovely spring gift for your favorite young person.
And of course I am enjoying this amazing papercutting by Pennsylvanian artist Neil Haring. (Here you are seeing just a detail of a larger piece). What birds are in your aviary?
My daughter is thrilled with our new season. Every day she says, "Mama, can you believe it? A minute ago it was winter, and now it's spring." And it does feel rather abrupt, as though we shouldn't yet trust the motions of the planet. And there certainly is a lot of mud. We have been taking afternoon walks through our forest, led by the two-year-old, which means we have ended up stuck in a marsh on more than one occasion. He thinks it's great, until the shoes get lost in the goo, at which point it's a lot of curious poking and squelching of liberated socked feet, which become soaked feet, which means I carry him home again while the 5-year-old sister tsk tsks over his imprudent behavior. That last photo above is not taken in the marsh, by the way, but at the swing set. My camera seems to be going into slow decline; the little screen on the back has gone dark, so it's hard to know what image I am capturing. Feet, sort of. But I like it. And that fabulous hive we did find in the marsh.
I am in the midst of a large editing project, and it's got me thinking about narrative quite a bit. (My Jane Austen read-a-thon has, too, of course. Austen is such a master at pacing and revelation.) My five-year-old likes a nightly bedtime story, and for a long time we had been doing a serial story about a group of fairies living in a meadow. I was so very tired of inventing capers for fairies, so I proposed, instead, that we make a story from four elements. I offered a set of categories, which will change when we get bored with them; for now, they are: a flower, a color, a vehicle and an animal. My daughter thinks of one thing in each of those categories, and then I invent a story that involves each thing. So one night I made a story with zinnias, purple, a helicopter and a whale. Tonight it was irises, yellow, a submarine and a cow. Awesome! The stories usually end up being ridiculous, but I think that is really good for this mama, who can be rather serious and heavy of mood at times. And what child doesn't enjoy a good story about a cow riding in a submarine?
I know the rest of our region seems to have leapt into spring, but here on our little hill, we've still got lots of snow. We went for a family snowshoe expedition on our land: through the forest, across the creek, over the marsh, and back again.
Hope your weekend was equally adventurous!
Did I mention that we have a little bit of snow? Everything around here seems to have a frosting top these days, including our smokehouse.
I'm taking a week away from the blog, but will be back with fun stuff! See you then.
Our Christmas was lovely, and the days since then have been peaceful and quiet. We've spent most of our time at home, indoors and out, enjoying the pleasures of the season. I hope you all had a wonderful holiday as well.
I'll have handmade treasures and great design finds to share later this week. I'll also have a winter craft to do with your kids. It's an old favorite with a twist!
