Both sides, now

Storm clouds over a field of grazing cows. Seen from the roadside, State Highway 16 Kaipara, NZ. Image: Su Leslie, 2017. Edited with Snapseed.

Storm clouds gathering. Seen from the roadside, State Highway 16 Kaipara, NZ. Image: Su Leslie, 2017. Edited with Snapseed.

You know that thing, where you’re traveling along and in one direction the weather is all clear blue skies, but on the other it looks like a storm coming?

The Big T and I found that driving back from Atiu Creek at the weekend. Off to the west, the Kairpara Harbour was fair glistening in the sun. At the same time, huge dark clouds were lowering over the east.

Storm clouds approaching over hillside and mangroves. State Highway 16, Kaipara, NZ. Image: Su Leslie, 2017. Edited with Snapseed.

Storm clouds approaching. State Highway 16, Kaipara, NZ. Image: Su Leslie, 2017. Edited with Snapseed.

The contrast in light was breathtaking. Grass in the slightly parched fields seemed to glow golden, and foliage shimmer, against the matte chalkboard sky.

Just a few miles further south, and the clouds were behind us.

Since I’ve pinched a Joni Mitchell song title for this post, here is the song to enjoy.

Written for Sally D’s Mobile Photography Challenge at Lens and Pens by Sally. This week the theme is black and white.

Regular Random: five minutes with some yellow flowers

I’ve almost got the remains of the Big T’s bouquet out of my photographic system, deriving nearly as much pleasure from close examination of the blooms’ decay as from their beautiful heyday.

In this shoot and my earlier posts of images of a solitary gerbera, I was really conscious of how powerful blackness is. In this, I am unashamedly inspired by the work of NZ photographer Fiona Pardingdon, and in particular her exhibition A Beautiful Hesitation, which I visited multiple times and have never ceased to be enthralled by.

Thanks to Desley Jane at Musings of a Frequently Flying Scientist for Five Minutes of Random (the RegularRandom challenge) which gave me the perfect excuse to spend some quality time with a bunch of dying flowers and a lot of black space.

All photos ©Su Leslie, 2017

“Always the bough is breaking …”

Grainy b&w shot of milkweed seed head. Image: Su Leslie, 2017. Edited with Snapseed.

Milkweed seed head. Image: Su Leslie, 2017. Edited with Snapseed.

I’ve become a gardener. Not just in the literal sense of having a garden; but more in the way that my garden has become a filter through which I see the world.

I grow flowers for the bees, set beer traps for snails, chase wasps from the swan plants and am the Big T’s eager accomplice in Monarch butterfly husbandry.

When I grow hungry, the contents of the  vege patch are as important as the contents of my fridge.

And when the annoying TV weatherman casts impending rain as a villain swooping in to spoil the party, I want to shout “sod off! Think of the plants; think of the gardens.”

The thing about gardening is that you become part of a cycle; birth, life, death, decay, re-birth. Compost as metaphor!

I have become connected. Though my little patch of cultivated dirt, I feel a sense of belonging to the Earth that is not only new, but surprising in its intensity.

Grainy b&w shot of milkweed seed head. Image: Su Leslie, 2017. Edited with Snapseed.

Milkweed seed head. Image: Su Leslie, 2017. Edited with Snapseed.

I found this poem yesterday and realised that where once, if asked about my attitude to life and death, I’d have quoted Dylan Thomas’s Do not go gentle into that good night. 

Now I think Willam Soutar‘s Song might be more apt.

Song

End is in beginning;
And in beginning end:
Death is not loss, nor life winning;
But each and to each is friend.

The hands which give are taking;
And the hands which take bestow:
Always the bough is breaking
Heavy with fruit or snow.

Portrait

Double-exposure portrait of clown doll. Image: Su Leslie, 2017. Edited with Snapseed and Fused.

Clown puppet; double-exposure portrait. Su Leslie, 2017. Edited with Snapseed and Fused.

My artist friend Claire Delaney works from a studio that manages to be simultaneously a tranquil creative space and an Aladdin’s Cave of curiosities and treasures. I spent time there yesterday; thinking, writing and taking photos.

Hanging on a wall she has a clown puppet whose face offered such ambiguity of expression, I couldn’t resist editing two shots together.

A contribution to Sally D’s Mobile Photography Challenge, at Lens and Pens by Sally.

“… how do you find where you belong?”

Black and white shot of trees reflected in lake at Tokaanu Boat Ramp, Turangi. Image: Su Leslie, 2016

Lake Taupo, at Tokaanu boat ramp. Image: Su Leslie, 2016. Edited with Snapseed.

Home from a visit to my dad (and do to a glass-making workshop), I’m working through my photos. I shot these images while walking by Lake Taupo at Tokaanu. The weather was overcast; the threat of rain always present.

Black and white image of rushes reflected in Lake Taupo at Tokaanu. Image: Su Leslie, 2016

Lake Taupo at Tokaanu. Image: Su Leslie, 2016

But what I remember best is not the lowering clouds, but the sense of absolute stillness. With no-one else around, the only sounds I heard were bird-calls and the lap of water.

It’s rare that I find myself in a place of such quiet and calm, and I’ve edited the shots to help me remember and hold on to the feeling of absolute belonging in that space and time.

Black and white shot. Piers from old jetty, Lake Taupo at Tokaanu boat ramp. Image: Su Leslie, 2016. Edited with Snapseed.

Piers from old jetty, Lake Taupo at Tokaanu boat ramp. Image: Su Leslie, 2016. Edited with Snapseed.

The title of this post comes from the wonderful Eva Prowse song ‘Lie in the Land’.  On the road I listened again and again to a recording of her performing this with the band Fly My Pretties.

Written for Sally D’s Mobile Photography Challenge, at Lens and Pens by Sally.

 

In deepest shade

Finding the light. Black and white macro shot of gerbera at the Wintergarden, Auckland Museum. Image: Su Leslie, 2016.

Finding the light #1. Gerbera at the Wintergarden, Auckland Museum. Image: Su Leslie, 2016.

The Big T’s mother died last weekend. She had suffered ill-health for a number of years, and finally, after a spell in hospital, came home to spend her final days cared for by family.

It’s only in darkness that we can really see light. The last few weeks have brought light from unexpected sources; old friends arriving to offer support, grandchildren demonstrating again and again what fine adults they have become, professionals going way more than the extra mile to comfort and assist. These kindnesses large and small have shone bright and illuminated hope.

Black and white, macro shot of magnolia branch. Image: Su Leslie, 2016

Finding the light #2. Magnolia branch. Image: Su Leslie, 2016

Where there is much light the shade is deepest.
—  Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Written (somewhat belatedly) for Sally D’s Mobile Photography Challenge at Lens and Pens by Sally.