Story Behind the Picture: View from the Hill

I would never have said that landscapes are my strength, but when I was hired for a commissioned piece (a landscape, no less), I decided to take on the project because it would be a happy challenge. It was a beautiful day at the arboretum, and I shot for about two hours as I walked the grounds. The trees were gorgeous, but nothing really gave me that "ah-ha!" moment when I looked through the viewfinder. Until, that is, I decided to look on the top of a hill. There was something lovely about the space between all those glorious green leaves, a welcoming path across the top of the hill, looking out to endless miles behind. This photograph makes me think of the way I like to live my days: enjoy and revel in the present, yet look forward to the journey beyond.

Story Behind the Picture: Clocks

Well, given my post a few weeks ago about "Dandelion," I figured I'll continue with my love of photographing weeds. Or, more accurately, laying on the ground and low-crawling in order to get the shot. In public.

This particular invasive species was the only spot of white on the otherwise perfect green lawn of the Morris Arboretum in the middle of March. I thought it a very special dandelion - it alone had weathered the winds, rain, and freezing temperatures. Most visitors that day were admiring the statuary, the ivy gently climbing the stone walls, the swan gracefully swimming in the pond. I think I may have been the only one laying on the cold ground with my camera, photographing a common weed.

Marty: "Boys, have you seen your mother anywhere?"

Lucas: "Why are you on the ground, mommy?"

The softness of the dandelion clock against the dreamy blue sky was too pretty to miss. In the end, it was worth getting my jeans dirty and embarrassing my family, don't you think?

Story Behind the Picture: River at Sunrise

I took this photo during a glorious morning row, a day where I brought my camera (and the patience of my teammates) out at sunrise to capture the sights we tend to overlook on a daily basis. They promised to hold the boat steady and not to splash water on my equipment. They promised to help me find things - even ordinary things - that they thought to be lovely.

This is the view we rowers see on clear mornings, the mornings when the rising sun turns the sky into a watercolor painting of soft blues and pinks. The streetlights on Kelly Drive have yet to dim, but the hum of daily traffic is just audible over the chirping birds and gentle splash of the oars as they enter the water. Sometimes you’ll even catch the mouthwatering smells from the bakeries in East Falls and Manayunk as they drift downriver. This view is from the Twin Stone bridges in East Falls, where most boats spin to begin their journey back toward the boathouses.

Some people ask why rowers choose a sport that requires us to rise at unimaginably early hours, launch from the dock before dawn, and endure often unpleasant weather. This photograph is my answer.

Story Behind the Picture: Dandelion

It was a delightful summer afternoon. I gathered up the boys and we took a lazy stroll around the neighborhood, enjoying the shade of the trees and the sounds of the birds and tree frogs singing as we walked underneath. I think we only actually walked a few hundred meters, but it took almost an hour - curious little boys love to stop and investigate every leaf, flower, and blade of grass they encounter. As we walked back up the hill to our house, I saw this dandelion glowing in our front yard as the sun began to dip low in the sky. Danny squealed with delight and raced ahead to grab it, but I begged him to wait until I took a picture. He and Lucas stood patiently while I took my usual ridiculous number of photographs, and when I was finished, I gave them a smile. Danny raced to the dandelion and blew the little fluffy seeds all over our front lawn. I watched him dancing around as they fell to the ground, knowing there would soon be a new, larger crop of weeds for him to enjoy. My husband finds it odd that I photographed a weed. I told him he needs to look at it from a child’s point of view.

Story Behind the Picture: Skates

Roller Derby.
You can have your football and baseball. You can keep golf. You can even have basketball. After watching my sister-in-law skate in a Roller Derby tournament, that's the only sport for me (to watch, mind you, not to play...I used to play rugby in college and it wasn't half as rough as what I witnessed in that skating rink).

Do you need to understand the rules to enjoy it? Not at all: just cheer and scream for your friends (or sisters) as they fly around the rink and crash into one another. Somewhere, points are tallied. I think points should also be awarded to spectators who successfully avoid being hit by the occasional skater careening out of control.

We brought our two boys to witness the event: "Knock 'em down, Aunt DeeDee!!" became the battle cry of the evening. They sat on our shoulders and cheered louder than most adults could manage. They saw tough, agile athletes compete. They realized girls could play just as hard as boys. Would I ever lace up my skates? Heck no: I've seen the bruises on those women! But count me in as a fan of the unpaid, unpretentious, and unbelievable athletes of this awesome sport.

Story Behind the Picture: All in a Row

I'm always surprised by how my personal life gently colors even the most simple photograph. Two weeks ago, I brought home a huge bundle of pears. As I placed them on the kitchen counter, I was struck by the personality each little pear seemed to exude. I chose six of the pears, set them in a row, and started shooting.

Not until I saw the images on my computer did I realize I had chosen the same number of pears as the children in my husband's family. I'm an only child, but I married a man with five siblings. Those six children are the most wonderful, yet diverse set of individuals: each is an incredibly unique personality, each has their own set of gifts and strengths, each leans their own way. The way these pears are sitting mirrors the personalities and the relationships of all six brothers and sisters, yet the effect was entirely unintentional. A dear friend just told me it reminded him of "The Last Supper." With fruit.

I love to see my own children growing into their little unique selves: diversity is a beautiful thing. Just like these little pears.

Story Behind the Picture: Ocean City Rocks

I love the beach in the morning. The surfers paddle out, waiting for the perfect wave. Fishermen, clad in waders, patiently wait near the ends of the jetties. The sand, smooth and clear, bears only a few foot – or paw – prints from the early risers. The beach, in the morning, is full of possibilities. The black rocks of the jetty still feel cool underfoot, the seagulls still stroll at the water’s edges, the sun still climbs lazily out of the sea. Soon enough it is time to head home and begin the real work of the day, but the stolen moments at the beach in the morning are enough to carry me through.