The First Narcissus

I have been a real slug of late when it comes to posting pictures here on The Glass Aerie. Part of it has been just interests in areas outside of looking at a computer, coldish weather, and whatever other excuse I can offer!

One place I do go with fair regularity is the local botanical garden, which like all such gardens, is designed to display plants and flowers throughout the season. Here, the first narcissus of earlier in the year – something I make special trips for as their presence is so fleeting.

I am finding the X100V to be an extremely pleasant carry-around camera, and the results aren’t have bad, either.

Tomatoes in Suburbia

Nothing like a mistake that is rather a fun one – here, double exposure in my Certo Six folding camera. I forgot to advance the film and thought there was an issue, so released the exposure button again by choosing the “bypass” button. (If you have a Certo Six, you know what I am talking about.) It makes me think that it might be a fun exercise to deliberately, rather than accidentally, create double exposures. Maybe even triple. Or quadruple. Such is possible!!

This is with Portra 400, a film I always find way to delicate in color for my taste, but it could be I will change my mind after cataract surgery. This is pretty much SOOC with just some spot removal in post. I don’t like spotty film . . .

Ode to Spring

Ode to Spring (by Andrew Elliott)

Oh glory be to things that grow!
That burgeon, blossom, bud and blow
In Springtime’s light and airy breeze,
Which ruffles softly new sprung leaves.

What tongue there be to justly praise
The wonders wrought by Vernal days?
These beauties bright which turn, indeed,
Each frozen heart to flaming glede.

O Daffodil! O Daffodil!
That covers well each downy hill—
E’en Solomon was not arrayed
In splendour such as you displayed.

Ah! Lovely Tulip, what to you
Is all the wealth of Timbuktu?
What, then, the gain of dye from Tyre—
When Gladdons blaze with purple fire?

Thou Cowslip and thou Daisy fair—
Thou Foxglove, Rose, and Lily rare—
Much more is your surpassing worth
Than all the gems throughout the earth!

Consider well what ecstasy
Lies cloistered in each Peony—
That dormant wait until the hour
Their chains are loosed, then start to flow’r.

Oh Spring, indeed, thou teachest well
That man, though wise, knoweth not the spell
Which makes all things by beauty bound—
That Mystery which none hath found.