Gaillardia and cornflower

click photo to enlarge
One of the trees at the front of our house is a large, fairly old, crab apple. When we bought the house we looked at this tree and despaired at the treatment  (and lack of treatment) that it had received. As a youngster it appears to have been badly pruned causing a tangled knot of branches to erupt from the top of a relatively short trunk. It looks like neglect was the next course of treatment it suffered resulting in each of these branches shooting up and outwards like an exploding firework. But, the somewhat ugly-duckling appearance notwithstanding, the tree has promise. It is much used by birds, looks magnificent when it is in blossom, and produces a fine crop of crab apples in autumn that are much appreciated by the same birds. Consequently we instigated a programme of pruning to bring it to a better shape. We've raised the canopy a little each year, cut out some of the interlocking branches and restricted its spread. It is slowly improving.

However, it sits in the centre of a smallish flower bed which, from May onwards, the crab apple's spreading leaves make quite dark. Early flowers such as daffodils, tulips and even bluebells manage fine but perennials and annuals find the location more of a problem. Our recent solution is to treat it as a bed for left-overs, foundlings and self-seeded flowers. The resulting mix is a riot of leggy colour that a neighbour says brings a smile to her face every time she passes through our gate. I've photographed these flowers recently and found that my best shots come when I wait until the blooms are illuminated by the low, evening sun that gets below the tree's branches. This strong light produces bright colours, deep shadows and edging halos.

Today's main photographs show a small part of the planting and the main image showcases the complementary colours of the gaillardia and the cornflower. The observant will also notice some lemon yellow snapdragons and deep red poppies in there too. The smaller photograph is a contre jour shot of a section of the flowers showing the jumbled mixture of varieties and colours.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 300mm
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/250 sec
ISO: 320
Exposure Compensation: -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Motion blur and serendipity

click photo to enlarge

Every now and then an accidental photographic exposure produces a result that is more desirable than the ones to which you give careful consideration. This image is a case in point. I was wandering around the garden with the macro lens on the camera, taking a few snaps of flowers, when I noticed a red-tailed bumblebee (Bombus lapidarius) moving from bloom to bloom on the cornflowers. I took several shots of the busy insect, then went inside to have a look at my haul of pictures. Most of them were technically fine, but boring. This one, however, stood out. The bee had just taken off and I'd moved the lens to follow it and snap it in flight. It was a futile task at these kinds of shutter speed, I know, but it was a reflex action prompted by who knows what.

The result pleases me for a number of reasons. Firstly, I like the orange-red of the bee's tail as it buzzes off. Secondly, I like the fact that nothing in the image is sharp and the bee least of all. Thirdly, the overall mix of colours, especially the tones of geen and yellow in the background are pleasing. And finally, without me planning it, I have a further shot in my on-going collection of motion-blurred images!

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Imperfect nature

click photo to enlarge

Yesterday The Guardian newspaper carried an article about some Spanish property developments. These gated communities, constructed around Jack Nicklaus designed golf courses, feature identikit white painted, tiled-roofed, balconied "villas" set among impossibly green manicured lawns, lollipop trees and blue lakes. The photographs that accompany the article look like computer-generated images, so "perfect" are these homes for British expats who fancy a life of sun and golf. Apparently there is some concern over whether they will all sell, due to a market slump. However, that aspect of the report didn't interest me. I was just morbidly fascinated by the pictures.

Why would anyone want to live in a such a soulless place, a haven for the rich set in an area of relative poverty, a community with no history that looks like Toy Town? But then I reflected, perfection, an unattainable goal, seems to be the aim of many people today. Advertisers and T.V. programmes urge us to aspire to the perfect house in the perfect location filled with perfect consumer durables, taking "dream" holidays in "idyllic" locations. Maybe these developments in Spain give you all that for one big dollop of cash, and you can rest content that you've attained your perfect dream. Or is it a nightmare?

Today I picked this Cornflower (Centaurea montana) from my garden. It was one of many blooms on the plant, all of them radiating their distinctive petals. There is a pleasing flawed perfection about these flower heads. They could have perfect symmetry, but the tips of the petals refuse to co-operate and twist in all directions. It's a quality I like about the plant. However, picking up my theme for the day I decided to present this flawed flower against a background that strived for perfection! I laboured long and hard with the shadows, the shading and the colours. I'm unsure whether or not I like the finished image - it's a bit Mothers' Day cardish. But, since it's quite different from my usual flower shots I'm posting it anyway!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 35mm macro (70mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off
Flash: FL36 bounced