My dad was a gardener. He taught me to use my thumb and finger to pinch the seed and plant it precisely in the soil– according to it’s size. I had my own four foot square patch to grow carrots, radishes and marigolds, that I bought with my paper route earnings. At first we cleared stones, pulled weeds and tilled the ground. My dad made a wooden fence by criss crossing salvaged branches. He sculpted the grassy edges with the backend of a spade. The garden flourished and grew. We carefully tied green pea vines to their trellis with twine. Tomatoes turned red and lush– green poked out of the ground and yielded lettuce, cucumber, pumpkin and squash. Each carrot I pulled was a surprise shape– bent or curled.
My dad picked a green pea and broke open the pod– reached out his two hands to me– the peas laid in a row– smooth and green. He said “Eat”. It was sweet.
We never know what the future. holds. We don’t understand, at the time, people are more broken than they seem– able to make terrible mistakes and at the same time able to create places and things of beauty.
Three of my favourite Red-winged Blackbird photos taken with a telephoto lens.
I find Red-Winged Blackbirds challenging to capture because they keep their distance and will move around to draw you away. But, once they find a safe perch they will stay put for awhile giving plenty of opportunities to capture a satisfying portrait.