Yellow Iris in Abstract © 2010 Bo Mackison
The iris in my garden popped open yesterday in the 90 degree heat. The night before they were tightly wrapped cylinders, by mid morning they were fully open and waving gently in the breeze. I waited until evening to photograph them to avoid the bright sun. I was fascinated by the shapes, textures and contours of this perfect yellow iris.
Tiny Blossoms © 2010 Bo Mackison
Flowers from a patch of chives.
When I was a young child, I lived in a house full of grandparents — grandmother and grandfather and my grandmother’s mother. My great-grandmother’s name was Prudie and I remember her most vividly when I was about 7 or 8 and she was in her 80s. I was an only child for much of my childhood, and lived in an apartment building where there were no other children, so Prudie was my best friend.
In the “flowering” months – usually March through November – my grandfather, Prudie’s son-in-law, would spend many hours every day in his gardens. Every morning he picked a single fresh flower and brought it to Prudie’s second floor bedroom. Knocked on her door, exchanged “good mornings” and he’d give her a flower.
Prudie had two cut glass vases – one large, one small. Some mornings she would receive a flower fit for the larger vase – a luscious ‘Everlasting’ red rose or a frilly white peony. But often she would get a tiny token from the yard – a deep purple pansy, a stalk of lily of the valley, sometimes an inauspicious white clover or a blossom from the purple chives.
These chive blossoms, desaturated to remove much of the color, remind me of the single chive flower I would occasionally see in my grandmother’s room. She kept the room quite dark to help stave off the heat and protect her weakened eyes from bright lights, and the brown shades, when pulled nearly closed, lit the room in tones rather like those seen in the photograph.
In Hiding © 2010 Bo Mackison
Abstract macro photograph of pink tulip. Olbrich Gardens in Madison, Wisconsin.
Ethereal Blue © 2010 Bo Mackison
Floating, wispy, as if the flower is about to spin away.
Addendum: July 19. At a recent art fair, a garden lover identified this flower for me. It is a perennial bachelor’s button. I’m happy to provide its name after a long unsuccessful search on my part.
Peony in White © 2010 Bo Mackison
Frilly, fancy, dressed in her finery, this peony was waiting for me at the exit of the garden. I’d already been shooting over two hours, I’d logged in over 350 photos, half taken in my preferred photography pose. That pose, of course, is me lying on my back or side on the cold, stony ground. (It never seems to work as well – these flower macros – if the garden path is something other than cold and stone.) This evening’s path was mostly chunky gravel–to add an extra touch of texture-y jabs to my ribs.
So I’d had enough-more than enough-and the sun was close to setting. I was ready to reward myself with a stop at a drive-in on the way home for a cold soda. I’d worked up a thirst. Must have been all that up and down activity – like seventh grade gym class, I swear. But then I had to postpone my departure, as I was stopped still by this huge bush of peonies, all in white splendor.
So out came all the camera equipment I had just packed so securely and carefully.The peony reminded me, a bit, of a bedraggled sheet (should I be calling a peony a bedraggled sheet?) but it does. All swept aside, as if someone had opened their eyes at the first bit of morning light, seen the sun calling out a new day, and literally leapt out of bed.
Well, I spent another twenty minutes taking a few peony photos, and then I left and went to the drive-thru and splurged on my Diet Coke. I’m trying to cut down on that stuff – the more I think about what it must be I’m drinking the more I swear I have to give the stuff up. And I do a fairly good job of avoiding soda at home, especially since I can make sun-green-tea all summer long. But there are times when I must have that Coke product and this evening was one of those evenings.
I have a close up of the center of this peony. I think the center looks as if Dale Chihuly himself had designed all the curlicues and colors. So much detail. Wow! That’s for next time.
