Every image has story of their own, a life of their own. I love sunflowers, so much I planted last years garden with them firmly in my thoughts. Of course Van Gough’s sunflowers revolve in my mind, along with the gardens Monet planted, cared for, and painted. And then there are my Chickadee’s whom, somehow make it through Maine winters, as well as the honey bees who need more safe havens to pollinate. To ease their plight, and satisfy my passion, I planted dozens of sunflowers. It turned out to be a wonderful year for their growth, and as they began to blossom I waited for the right time to dance with my camera amongst them. Alas, that time never came. I broke my wrist instead. There have been so many times, in my life, I have tried to “set” up photos only to have something else occur. It wasn’t a bad thing as it gave me time to think, and work on images already taken.
As their petals began to fall my son visited, and he brought with him a bouquet of flowers – mainly sunflowers. I arranged them in my favorite vase bought by a local craftsman who uses only Maine clays and traditional Japanese firing methods. It was the time of year when the sun lies in the sky long shadows and golden hues coat everything it touches. I placed my arrangement in the window and listened to some music. A bee saw the flowers and came up to the window. Frustrated by the barrier he buzzed off. Smelling the sweetness of the flowers, I felt sorry for the insect as his desire was so intoxicating.
I tossed my head back and let the sun coat my being, yes I had sunblock on. Taking deep breaths I moved my camera as I had witnessed the bee move, following the scent of the sunflower’s aroma, methodically and intentionally. My sunflower series complete, I relaxed in the rays of the sun.
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