Friday, November 13, 2020

Wooded Sunset

Some evenings you see extraordinary piles of clouds and sunset which of course are harder to spot now it's getting dark at six, the time I leave work...
Rusty sniffs and I play with my camera, messing with the exposure and so forth. 
I find the edges of the roadway to be filled with shapes and colors that seem to attract no one's eye except my own. Seagrape  leaves in various stages of decomposition:

This abstract struck my eye by accident as I was fiddling with the camera and pointing it at my feet.  I realized the road surface itself was a jigsaw 
I you find leaves intriguing look up the photos of Edward Weston. He died a pauper in California supported at the end by Ansel Adams but I find his pictures inspiring. He made common objects lose their relaity and transform themselves into wild abstract figures. Quite extraordinary.
I am not the photographer he was obviously, but I trust my civil servant's pension will keep me from destitution as I grow older and I hope a better photographer.
And every now and again I am a sucker for a still sunset.  Imagine the silence over the mangroves and salt water ponds. Imagine the no see'ums nibbling your ankles which are just enough to drive you mad and take the glow off the spectacle. So you dive for the car with your dog in hot pursuit and seven minutes later you are home rubbing your ankles frantically, having completely forgotten the beauty left behind. Here's what it looked like in those few blissful minutes before the critters found my vulnerabilities: