Get Your Geese in a Row
Get Your Geese in a Row
“Getting your geese in a row. On Chartiers Creek in Carnegie.”
I had a meeting in Carnegie and walked to and fro. On the way back, about 2:00 in the afternoon with partly cloudy skies overhead. As I approached the bridge I could see geese in the water, coming out from under the bridge, first a little group, then single and evenly spaced almost in a perfect line. I got as many as my camera could get, and this time was happy for the focal distance in my smartphone as the line looks like it goes on into infinity. I used the “blue wash” filter and like the rainbow effect it put on the surface of the water.
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Not Your Coffee
Not Your Coffee
It does look like coffee but it’s actually very fast-moving water carrying silt running over the edge of a sloped waterway.
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For a print of any photo, visit “purchasing” for availability and terms. For photos of lots of black cats and other cats—and even some birds as I first published this post there—visit The Creative Cat.
Patience
Drop 1: Just About to Let Go
Remove ego before photographing. This photo is nice, but it’s not the one I wanted. Why fuss and fret when you can’t catch the drop as it falls through the air as you wish? Turn away, let go of your intention, and there it will be.
To awaken to a morning where ice coats the world—and nothing is damaged, nor do you need to travel—is truly a creative gift. I put aside other activities to photograph this rare opportunity in my own yard, and possibly drive around later for more photos. But it was dark, too dark to enliven the ice to its magical translucent quality, and already the air was warming so it had lost its perfect glassy reflectance. And I didn’t really want to run around and photograph ice this morning. I really didn’t feel like driving around or walking the trail looking for photos, I had other plans I’d been looking forward to. I’d photographed an ice storm almost every year for the past ten years, and I really didn’t feel I had anything new to say with an ice storm this morning.
But as I filled the bird feeders I decided I could find some interesting close-up photos of tiny icicles, ice coating a patterned basket, and possibly those little twirlies from the grapevines growing on the pussy willow branches completely encased in ice, and I didn’t even have to go outdoors—I could just open the windows and use my telephoto lens for those photos. This would take a few minutes and I could go on with my morning as planned.
I worked my way around the windows and did get some nice photos, ending up at the second-floor window in the bathroom where the ice coated the grapevines and pussy willow buds. I photographed those, and then saw one long graceful branch arching over, steadily, slowly releasing a drip of melted ice water. I love drips and droplets. I’ve photographed plenty of those as well, also from this very window, but today I wanted something different, to make all the effort worth it—I wanted the drop just after it had released from the end of the branch and was falling through the air.
I could do this, no problem. I watched its pattern, set my camera settings, steadied it against the window frame, focused, and waited, and snapped. No luck, just a fat drop. Photographed again, three shots in quick succession. Fat drop, two wet branches. Moved a bit so my finger had easier access to the shutter button, began photographing just to set the pattern before the drop was even ready to fall. Drop increasing size through four or five frames, then three wet branches.
Easy, right? There were more tries, and I was tired and cramped and getting cranky and feeling bad I’d not only wasted my time but lost the momentum for the project I’d wanted to begin first thing and felt unfocused. I looked back at the early shot of the elongated drop and knew I really, really liked that shot, the only thing keeping me from liking it completely was my will to get the shot I probably could not get without a ton of luck using the camera I was using. I let go of all the angst and decided I’d gotten a really nice shot, and I’d share it today, and I had actually enjoyed those moments of deep focus, fine tuning my creative senses for the day.
But I’d had the luck to get the elongated drop, and what if I’d hit the shutter just a portion of a second later totally by chance? That could happen too. I was overplanning this, too confident, wanting the bend the force of light and time and weather and gravity and physics and shutter speeds to my will. I decided I’d try once more without all the pomp and circumstance and ego, knowing I should be able to get this shot. I wuld just leave it up to chance, which was how I got most of my favorite shots. They are gifts, not highly planned projects. I checked my camera settings, turned around, manually focused on the drop just in time, hit the shutter four times and got my precious photo. My day was restored.
Drop 2: On Its Way
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For a print of any photo, visit “purchasing” for availability and terms. For photos of lots of black cats and other cats—and even some birds as I first published this post there—visit The Creative Cat.
States of Matter
States of Matter
The ice that was water becomes water again, melting back into itself, to return, and return again.
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For a print of any photo, visit “purchasing” for availability and terms. For photos of lots of black cats and other cats—and even some birds as I first published this post there—visit The Creative Cat.
City Fountain on a Hot Night: 2010
Dancing in the Fountain
Families chase each other through the dancing waters of the fountain in PPG Place in downtown Pittsburgh on a hot night in the city. Changing colored lights illuminate the obelisk in the center as the water jets put on a show of their own.
For a print or other reproduction of any photo, please visit “Purchasing” for more information.
Poem for a Rainy Day: The World Upside Down
The World Upside Down
The World Upside Down
In the misty turn of a rainy afternoon
a single, ponderous drop of rainwater hangs tenuously from the curved tip of a leaf
holding within the world turned upside down
and a moment later falls into eternity.
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If you look closely you’ll see the maple trees at the edge of my neighbor’s yard upside down inside the droplet.
The World Upside Down ©2011 Bernadette E. Kazmarski
See more photos of rainy days.
Read more poetry here on Today or visit my poetry page to see more about my poetry and other writing, and to purchase Paths I Have Walked.
Paths I Have Walked, collected poems.
I’m proud to offer a folio of my poetry
Paths I Have Walked: the poetry and art of Bernadette E. Kazmarski
FROM FOUR ANNUAL POETRY READINGS AT ANDREW CARNEGIE FREE LIBRARY & MUSIC HALL IN CARNEGIE, PA
People who attended one or more of my poetry readings encouraged me to publish some of my poetry in a book from the beginning.
Once I completed my 2010 poetry reading, my fourth featuring the final piece of artwork in the “Art of the Watershed” series, I decided it was time to publish something and it should be those four poetry readings.
Poetry books are not best-sellers; it’s difficult to convince a publisher to risk effort on a beginning poet, and while self-publishing is the best option it’s not inexpensive and once you’ve got the book, someone’s got to market it. Plus, I’m a graphic designer and I designed books for years, and I want things my way.
All of this is a recipe for a little bit of trouble, but I decided the book was well worth the effort so I designed the book myself and had a set printed—no ISBN or anything formal, but it’s a start! I’m really excited to offer it.
Books are 4.25″ x 11″, 40 pages of information and poetry, with glossy covers featuring “Dusk in the Woods” and little thumbnails of all four pieces in “Art of the Watershed”.
$8.00 each plus $2.50 shipping (they are oversized for mailing first class).
You can order one on my poetry page, or in my Marketplace.
About the books and the poetry readings
My biggest inspiration for poetry, prose and artwork is the world right around me, and I enjoy the opportunity to share it from the perspective of one who walks and hikes and bikes and carries a camera, art materials and journal everywhere—even around the house—so the inspirations are fresh.
In December, 2006, two of my poems were chosen to be published on a section of the Prairie Home Companion website entitled “Stories From Home/First Person” for submissions of writing about the place we feel most familiar. I’m a long-time listener to PHC and reader of Garrison Keillor’s books as well as a daily listener to The Writer’s Almanac featuring news about writers and writing and of interest to writers as well as a poem, all compiled and read by Keillor himself. I was astonished to find my poems were among the first chosen from apparently thousands, and so happy to be able to share them with a potential audience of so many similarly inclined writers and readers.
My poetry readings and art exhibits were the vision of Maggie Forbes, executive director of the Andrew Carnegie Free Library & Music Hall, after learning of my publishing of those two poems. I owe her many thanks for encouraging me to present this combination of my visual and literary art, a first for me. I love that building, every inch of it, and the opportunity to bring people in to visit is an honor.
Spring Patterns
Spring Patterns
Water flows over a poured concrete low-head dam, the pattern of pebbles and sand in the concrete and flowing white water a contrast to each other, yet it almost looks as if the water is magically formed on the top of the dam.
Reflections Before the Rain, 2011
Reflections Before the Rain
More reflections. As the sun’s angle drops farther toward the horizon and the days grow shorter, reflections are also more clear on reflective surfaces such as water and glass. Even a small puddle will hold a reflection in the darker portion of the year where the sun farther overhead would have shone directly on the surface and either faded or eliminated the reflection.
This was the last bright flash of sun on Chartiers Creek near where I walk.
Moving Water, 2010
Moving Water
The water is shallow at this point in the year and at this point in Chartiers Creek, and I was on a gravel bar, the sun down behind a hill and just the glow of twilight and the shadows of dusk to illuminate the surface. This is not black and white, but the natural coloring of that time of day.
Poolwater
Poolwater
I went swimming today, so welcome in the heat. And I have always been mesmerized at the patterns of light and shadow from the surface of the water, which basically looks clear to me.
City Fountain on a Hot Night: 2010
Dancing in the Fountain
Families chase each other through the dancing waters of the fountain in PPG Place in downtown Pittsburgh on a hot night in the city. Changing colored lights illuminate the obelisk in the center as the water jets put on a show of their own.
Undecided Geese
Undecided Geese
The Canada geese were paddling along on Chartiers Creek as I made my late afternoon errands and they generally move with grace and composition, but they got all bunched up as they were going under the bridge—I think it was because the bridge has a pier in the center and some of them decided to go on the other side…and these guys just couldn’t decide what to do.
Then some goose took the initiative and everyone got in line. Geese like to know where they stand, or paddle.
Decided Geese
The World Upside Down
The World Upside Down
In the misty turn of a rainy afternoon
a single, ponderous drop of rainwater hangs tenuously from the curved tip of a leaf
holding within the world turned upside down
and a moment later falls into eternity.
If you look closely you’ll see the maple trees at the edge of my neighbor’s yard upside down inside the droplet.
Reflecting
Reflecting.
I didn’t take this photo today, but right around today in 2007; I’m posting it because I passed the spot where I took it and it looked just like this. It’s humble Chartiers Creek looking dignified and mysterious as it quietly winds between its banks into town and back out, gently reflecting the late winter twilight, street lights appearing one by one, bare trees standing sentinel on the banks and hills.
Water and Bridges
Water and Bridges
A bright sunny, windy day, it’s a very abstract view. I let the camera lens tell as it wanted.
Reflections Before the Rain
Reflections Before the Rain
More reflections. As the sun’s angle drops farther toward the horizon and the days grow shorter, reflections are also more clear on reflective surfaces such as water and glass. Even a small puddle will hold a reflection in the darker portion of the year where the sun farther overhead would have shone directly on the surface and either faded or eliminated the reflection.
This was the last bright flash of sun on Chartiers Creek near where I walk.
Today 