One of the pleasures of summer for me is sitting on our back deck and watching clouds drift through the space in the canopy created by the trees surrounding our yard. I love the feeling of being enfolded by the trees.
Well, I was out there one evening recently, enjoying the cloud and tree show, when who should drop by but the ghost of Vincent Van Gogh? After a short visit he was gone, but he left this behind.
It’s been a very soggy week around here.
I took this picture of a supermoon rising over the Atlantic Ocean from Chatham, Massachusetts in June of 2017.
I do almost all my photo processing using a program called Lightroom, which gives me the ability to do just about everything I ever want to do to a picture. I also have an old copy of Photoshop, which I seldom use. But Photoshop does have some capabilities that Lightroom doesn’t, including the ability to add a variety of artistic effects. I took this picture of a couple canoeing on the Charles earlier this week, and then used a Photoshop filter called “palette knife” on it. Which version do you like better?
The afternoon sun makes our front porch steps a good place to brew a jar of sun tea.
I know some of you like getting these pictures as a moment of escape from whatever is in the news. Sending them out often does the same for me. But this week, that just feels wrong. I can’t not acknowledge what is going on around me, or in me. Photography is my way of expressing that.
I snapped this picture yesterday at a Black Lives Matter rally in Newton – placid, mostly white Newton – which has not seen a protest gathering of this size or intensity in the 40 plus years I’ve lived here. This is a small segment of the crowd that certainly numbered in the hundreds, and more likely the thousands.
The allium is getting ready to burst into bloom.
The promise and possibilities of a new garden are irresistible. Although I know that the forces arrayed against me – hungry critters, droughts and storms, the implacable persistence of weeds – are plotting even now to play havoc with my plans, the first balmy days of spring cast a dreamy, amnesiac spell of hope.
The Paper Moon Diner is an iconic Baltimore establishment, known for its delicious breakfasts and quirky, whimsical decor. Four years ago, when I took this picture of part of the ceiling, I thought it was visually interesting, but I didn’t ascribe any particular meaning to it. In retrospect, it looks like it should be called The Approach of COVID-19.
Photos by Barry Hass 