Not to sound like a purist, but, you could have brought some friends along with you to the gardens and photographed them, or you could have even asked the gardens' visitors to pose for the photographs. But, would you have had deranged nature's flow, or captured its true essence, tranquillity, and subliminal beauty?
This morning in the garden children with colorful crayons have drawn arrows,
And they are pointing to hearts politely left on pathways as they sang songs in unison.
A deed of Cupid I thought indeed,
Tonight under the stars and the constellations of galaxies,
I see angels hiding in plain sight and serenading fairies,
Are these the same angels caring for flowers when they lose a pedal, and the trees a leaf?
What’s pain for these flowers over a broken pedal or a leaf flown-high-and-away,
but a necessity in their pursuit of beauty and joy I thought,
And what’s love but the happy pleasure of the temperate soul.
The sophistication of dragonflies, birds, and butterflies’s friendship keeps flourishing under the essence of the rain that has just fallen,
And thus refined again, and again at sunrises,
Here I hear the sweet-sounding of butterflies kissing,
And can feel their hearts beating,
Oh, what an harmonious hymn,
The sun gently reflects over the pond and the water over which I stand,
And like a band or two lovers entangled, I see a boat in repose with its two yellow paddles entangled like two lovers to watch the sun set,
On the bank of the river,
I contemplate and hear the timbres of love casting its net.
I arrived on your doorstep at the agreed time,
And although the gates seemed wide opened,
Like a lost lamb, I could not find the seemingly obvious entrance,
Until I saw a child-like figure leaned in what seemed to be his father’s embrace,
And simultaneously felt the radiance coming from the resonance of the flowers’ silvery organs,
If photography is the art of writing with light,
I shall never have enough ink to capture this delight,
The joyous sun beams through pedals, leaves, while the wind swings with trees,
The rollicking rabbit feasts on the grass,
So he may be filled with the kindred spirit of nature,
The butterflies escort you with a friendly intonation before landing on a vase,
The outer leaves of a tree return to their root, which is their base,
The water percolates from the soil to nurture the plants,
And from its pompous streams if I listen closely I can hear the bass,
Warm, vibrant, and up-lifting.
Honeyed-pathways grace the way to the grand-sounding-opening of the gates to your lively garden.
A beauty almost as pure, open, and seemingly vast as the fountain of youth reverberating from a child's laughter. Here lays a space for our senses, and a safe place for our children to run, learn, and play.
On Saturday, July 14th, after completing failing to rise and catch sunrise while in Virginia Beach, visiting friends and relatives. I proposed to drive about 17 miles in my silver Ford Focus to photograph a nearby garden, the Lotus Garden. It was in the neighborhood of Sandbridge Beach, adjacent to the Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge, and just off Sandbridge Rd.
Arrived at my chosen location, I parked my car, stepped out, and set up my tripod with my camera mounted on top. A few minutes later, Kevin pulled up in a salsa-red truck with one of the most contagious and joyful attitudes I had seen that morning. After exchanging pleasantries for a few minutes, Kevin shared a few memories of his time in Europe, photographing beautiful waterfalls, and rejoicing about his years serving in the U.S. Navy.
Then with an upbeat optimism, Kevin said, he had just bought his summery-orange kayak with the harmonizing green paddle. "I had photographed the Lotus from afar for quite some time now", he said. "Now I am ready to document them close-up. This is very exciting." He added, seating in the cockpit of his new kayak. He smoothly propelled himself with his double-bladed paddle into the bay to photograph the Virginia Beach's Official Flower, "The American Lotus".
A cool summer.
Along with my cares, I threw away my map and compass.
My left arm gently relaxing through the open window, I drove up and down the Blue Ridge Parkway following the bikers on their Harley Davidsons, letting them guide my journey through while listening to classic American rock n' roll. I saw nothing but the vast and magnificent American beauty sweeping across this bucolic American landscape where nature unabatedly gifts you with kind gestures, such as sunsets, sunrises, and the textures and forms of flowers growing on the sides of rugged mountains along the Blue Ridge Parkway. I couldn't help but feel so small, as I stood in the field of perennials to contemplate this pure, vast, and plain American beauty.
Photographs of the United States National Arboretum, in Washington, D.C.Read More