The morning glory was so surpassingly beautiful that I found myself photographing it whenever Bill and I were on the deck birding. This photo is soft, due to rain and low light, but it's the only one that seems to capture its unbelievable shade of sky blue.
The compositional possibilities of heart-shaped leaves and saucer blossoms were intriguing.
I think I loved it best in the rain, because the colors were truer, and the blossoms lasted all day, sometimes even into the next morning, before shriveling into pinky purple balloons and disappearing.
But oh, when the sun came out, the bud and petiole shadows played across the flowers' canvas.
And the light came through their gossamer tissue, never the same blue from day to day or moment to moment, always going through the spectrum of blue to lavender
and Wilhelm Langguth and Bolton and Grey Sprite seemed so happy to be blooming alongside this miraculous plant.
One day Bill saw a bumblebee go in a flower and he grabbed my camerajust in time to see the bee tumble out, the way bees do, which is why they're called bumblebees--because they're so heavy-bodied they are a bit clumsy. But they seem to do fine anyway. They aren't aware that by human calculations, the physics of their wing loading actually contraindicate their becoming airborne. So they fly.
these two by Bill of the Birds
Chet loved them, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment