Macro Photography by Angelia
I start nature photography class tonight.
I think I am going to like it.
My Mother’s garden.
In the Spring, the hands of my mother turn the soil. She picks each plant lovingly and places it in the dirt. She pats the ground around it and wills it to grow beautiful.
She works her garden all the year, but most especially, spring and summer. Sweating, watering, and arranging until she gets it just about right (but it’s never done).
We look upon her gallery of color and placement as if in the finest of museums. From one garden bed to the next, there is more to gaze upon and revel in. Hidden delights find your eye in wonder. Magic sparkles and weaves throughout the yard, delighting in fairy tales come true.
I don’t know if I every thanked my mother for her work, or for the love of gardening, she has instilled in me. I don’t know if she knows how much I appreciate the beauty she brings to life.
I took my camera to Oklahoma, in hopes, I could capture her joy and return it to her.
Mom, you make life more beautiful by just being in it. Thank-you for what you share with us, and for what I can share with all of you.
Gardening is a very special gift. It’s a mix of nurture, artistry, and love. There are many lessons taught in the garden of life. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.
“There is always music amongst the trees in the garden, but our hearts must be very quiet to hear it.”
When the world wearies and society ceases to satisfy, there is always the garden.”
“A little garden in which to walk, and immensity in which to dream.”
“All the flowers of tomorrow are in the seeds of yesterday.”
“As you walk down the fairway of life you must smell the roses, for you only get to play one round.”-Ben Hogan
“”True progress quietly and persistently moves along without notice.”
— St. Francis of Assisi
“To plant a garden is to believe in the future.”
“Flowers… are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1844
“Flowers whisper “Beauty!” to the world, even as they fade, wilt, fall.” ~Dr. SunWolf
“Count the garden by the flowers, never by the leaves that fall. Count your life with smiles and not the tears that roll.”
I have not explored the The Fort Worth Botanic Garden. Not in the blazing heat of I’m-about-to-die summer, not in the tricky flash spring, and not in the mostly 100-degree fall either. I have especially not visited in the stark dead of winter. Why would I? It’s a garden.
Until now that is.
Our photography class field trip ended up here on Sunday. It’s the last class. Our last chance to use our technical learning and get it all right. Or some of it right. Or at least walk around with a camera and hope to get something right.
So, I knew there would be no lush gardens. No roses unfolding. No perennials sprouting. Just harsh branches reaching up leave-less and life-less aching for color. Hints of green would be hard to find, but hint they would, here and there, to take a peek at the landscape happily awaiting spring.
And then……..there is the winter colors. Not forgotten. Not overshadowed by new buds. Here they stick to their grounds solemn and stark saying in their calm way, “See, I’m not so bad.
The garden’s waterfall in winter.
A Zen-like path and bridge.
The soldiers of winter. Flowering cabbages.
The Rose garden trellis path to the fountain.
A secret garden gate.
Spring. The fresh sign of Daffodils blooming.
Hi spring – I see you.
**Photos by Angelia.