Exploring — My Lawn as a Metaphor

Fully Floral

Fully Floral in Black and White © 2012 Bo Mackison

“Think of your free time, and how you spend it. Are you fighting your inner geography and planting a lawn? Are you going with the ambient climate and keeping it simple? Do you want to do work that is intense and may not fit the popular climate, or do you want to go with the flow and keep your work suited to an easy schedule? Or, do you want to create an environment that’s exotic for you or do you want to explore your nature as it is?” – Quinn McDonald

There are just so many options for spending my free time, and I always pack more ideas into my brain than one woman could do in a lifetime.

But that doesn’t stop me from adding to the list constantly. When I factor in my penchant for change, I need to consider several options for my front lawn if it is to be a metaphor for my free time.

At first thought, I liked the idea of a tall sunflower field.

I would be surrounded by eight foot high plants, all topped with giant yellow sunflower heads. Hidden in the glory of all those waving flowers, spending my free time wandering without being seen. But when I thought about the upkeep and the crispy brown remains of sunflower stalks once autumn’s frost paid a visit, those glorious sunflowers lost their appeal. Maybe I would get tired of being surrounded by a jungle of bright yellow flower heads the size of dinner plates. Too much intense color, over a long period of time, it might be too bright. Or too lonely, hidden away in the flowers.

What about a mass of low growing, take-care-of-themselves-flowers?

And while I’m imagining what I’d really like my free time to look like, in lawn form, I’d like a black and white flower yard where I can change its colors on my whim – like the original movie version of The Wizard of Oz which begins in black and white, and then magically transforms into resplendent  color. That would satisfy my preference for quick change – white to match a pristine day, red for a passionate mood, multicolored when I’m feeling  festive.

Of course, I’d need a magic wand to keep the flowers in tip-top shape, growing lush while remaining an easily tended ground cover.

And the magic wand would come in handy when it was time for a color change, too. My flower lawn requires a bit of magic – is that because I don’t want to do all of the work that fun sometimes requires (such as the wild rush that comes before and after a planned vacation.)

Perhaps I’d like a magic wand because I’m not the quick change artist I wish I could be in real life.

One day I yearn to be a landscape photographer tramping through the wilds of red rock country or the Southwest desert; another day I’m the artist curating her photographs for a museum or gallery show.

One day I am a photographer who is demonstrating the simple workings of a pinhole camera to a group of excited children; another day I’m an urban photographer documenting form and shape in the architectural details of abandoned buildings.

Maybe I’d even be in the mood for some meticulous, creative work. I spend much of my free time doing just that when I am in front of the magical computer screen processing my photographs.

What a changeable yard…um, photographer…

 

 

 

Lands that I Love

Late Autumn in the Prairie - Hidden Colors

Hidden Colors in the Prairie © 2012 Bo Mackison

A passion builds inside anyone who spends time on the prairie. ~ D. Showalter

In the winter, I spend my time in the Southwest and often wander the open spaces of the desert. It felt like home, the desert stretching as far as I could see, the first time I stood in the desert’s midst, turning in a circle, looking at the diversity, at the low clumping grasses, the bursts of yellow wildflowers, standing in the thick ground vegetation where I had perhaps expected sandbox sand.

It was a surprise to me. Why would I have such a thrilling connection to this secret land, land many people describe as desolate, and yet I could see nothing but wonder. This was not a land of my desolation.  A land of little water, yes, and of grand schemes for plant conservation, but wherever I looked there were compact surprises of the natural sort.

And now, in this last week of summer, where the touch of autumn rests heavily in the niches of Wisconsin, I notice similarities of the prairie and the desert.

The tallgrass prairie stretches far, blocks my view with its six-foot tall grasses and flower stalks, and I imagine it stretching for miles. Imagine I must, for most of the prairie has been swept clean, readied a century ago by the tractor’s plow, for corn and soybeans.  And now the neighboring land waits for winter covered with a different type of remnant, the sheared rows of cornstalks.

So I keep my eyes focused on the prairie spaces, on the swaying grasses, the sudden stalks of flowers dancing above my head, the prairie flowers twisting, wending their way, forcing their way ever skyward. Grasses and flowers with pioneer names – calico asters, switch grass, prairie cord grass, needle grass, cup-plant, compass plant.

In autumn, these prairie spaces have a certain look, the familiar is so similar to the arid desert grasslands.

Prairie in the autumn. Desert in the winter.

Lands that I love.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  Another day traipsing paths through prairie – her muse for both photography and words.

Waiting for Silence

Prairie Rosinweed

Prairie Rosinweed © 2012 Bo Mackison

Waiting for Silence – A Poem

i listen
for the noise of daily life to subside;
for the voices in my head to quiet;
for the busyness of business to halt.

slowly i discover

silence is not…

absence

nothingness

absolute

Sun Salutation with Black Eyed Susans

Sun Salutation © 2012 Bo Mackison

silence is…

presence

cosmos

completion.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  She takes photos constantly, and shares them daily. She writes poetry often, but shares it infrequently. Today she is on her way to the prairie again – her muse for both photography and words.

Walking the Tallgrass Prairie – Sunday Series

Sunny

Prairie Rosinweed © 2012 Bo Mackison

The disappearance of a major natural unit of vegetation from the face of the earth is an event worthy of causing pause and consideration by any nation.  Yet so gradually has the prairie been conquered by the breaking plow, the tractor, and the overcrowded herds of man…that scant attention has been given to the significance of this endless grassland or the course of its destruction.  Civilized man is destroying a masterpiece of nature without recording for posterity that which he has destroyed.  ~  John Ernest Weaver, North American Prairie (1954)

Tall Grass Prairie

Little Bluestem in Tallgrass Prairie © 2012 Bo Mackison

I like to think of landscape not as a fixed placed but as a path that is unwinding before my eyes, under my feet. ~ Gretel Ehrlich

Autumn Macro

Autumn Macro of Wings and Leaves © 2012 Bo Mackison

. . . the joy of prairie lies in its subtlety.  It is so easy—too easy—to be swept away by mountain and ocean vistas.  A prairie, on the other hand, requests the favor of your closer attention.  It does not divulge itself to mere passersby.   ~ Suzanne Winckler (2004, Prairie: A North American Guide)

Prairie Rosinweed © 2012 Bo Mackison

Prairie Rosinweed © 2012 Bo Mackison

. . . there don’t seem to be words, let alone colors, to do justice to the land and sky-scape that surrounds me . . . as empty as this place can seem, a person might never weary of looking at the land and sky.  ~ Kathleen Norris, Introduction to On the Plains (1999)

Tall Grass Prairie - Seedheads

Achenes and Wings of the Autumn Rosinweed © 2012 Bo Mackison

The sea, the woods, the mountains, all suffer in comparison with the prairie. . . The prairie has a stronger hold upon the senses.  Its sublimity arises from its unbounded extent, its barren monotony and desolation, its still, unmoved, calm, stern, almost self-confident grandeur, its strange power of deception, its want of echo, and, in fine, its power of throwing a man back upon himself. ~ Albert Pike (1831-32, Journeys in the Prairie)

Eight Foot Tall - Sunflowers in the Tallgrass Prairie

Prairie Cup-Plant © 2012 Bo Mackison

A world of grass and flowers stretched around me, rising and falling in gentle undulations, as if an enchanter had struck the ocean swell, and it was at rest forever. . .   ~ Eliza Steele, Summer Journey in the West (1840)

Bluestem Grasses in Tallgrass Prairie

Autumn Macro of Little Bluestem © 2012 Bo Mackison

“Grasslands challenge our senses, calling us to open our eyes to impossibly broad horizons and then, in the very next breath, to focus on some impossibly tiny critter hidden in the grass.” ~ James R. Page, Wild Prairie: A Photographer’s Personal Journey (2005)

Looking Above my Head

Above my Head in the Prairie © 2012 Bo Mackison

 It seems to be a constant contradiction of itself.  It is delicate, yet resilient; it appears to be simple, but closer inspection indicates that it is extremely complex; it may appear monotonous, but it is diverse and ever-changing throughout the seasons. ~ James Stubbendieck (1988)

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Today I offer you a few photographs of the prairie combined with quotations that describe the prairie in America’s Midwest throughout its recent (200 year) history with man. There isn’t much prairie left to see, but whenever I walk in a remnant, I feel awed by the possibility of a prairie that goes as far as the eye can see. More to come . . .

Art in the Gardens

Spikes and Yellow Fountain, Olbrich Gardens, Madison Wisconsin

Spikes and Yellow Fountain ©2012 Bo Mackison

I sit in my garden, gazing upon a beauty that cannot gaze upon itself.  And I find sufficient purpose for my day.  ~Robert Brault

Some gardens are just meant for sitting. There are nooks and crannies, places to sit and watch what goes on in a garden. One of my favorite benches is tucked in a corner of the botanical gardens in Madison. I sit there, take a few photographs, listen to the fountain waters trickle over this yellow pottery container and drip upon the pebbles, and do a little people watching, too.

Inflatable Sculptures in Olbrich Gardens

Inflatable Sculpture © 2012 Bo Mackison

Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help.
  ~ May Sarton

Placed in half hidden places in Olbrich Gardens, there are several new sculptures by  Sturgeon Bay (Wisconsin) artist, Robert Anderson. He constructs large-scale sculptures out of metals and fills them with compressed air so that they expand.

Expanding Sculpture, Olbrich Gardens, Madison Wisconsin

Expanding Sculpture at Olbrich ©2012 Bo Mackison

Beauty is the adjustment of all parts proportionately so that one cannot add or subtract or change without impairing the harmony of the whole.
~ Leon B. Alberti

Every time I visit the gardens, the sculptures look a little different. I love this aluminum sculpture constructed of triangles. Half hidden in one of the natural gardens, it reminds me of a shiny serpent wending its way through tall grasses.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Walking (and sitting) in the area gardens is one of Bo’s daily pleasures.