I set out along Piney Woods Church Road this afternoon after a downpour. The sky was still partly cloudy, roadside plants still decorated with water droplets. Inevitably, I was drawn to possible water images everywhere. This particular photo captures the brilliant red of a muscadine grapevine, a single droplet suspended from its tendril, a watery mirror in which it is reflected.
Yesterday morning, I took dozens of photographs of insects in motion on a blooming Cleyera along Piney Woods Church Road. This morning, I photographed no insects whatsoever, and took relatively few pictures, for that matter. But among them was this gem: a drop of water clinging to the underside of a Cleyera leaf, reflecting many other leaves. I love gazing into water droplets; they are vessels of stillness and peace, points of tranquility in our daily lives. They are one of the morning’s greatest gifts.
For a drippy, languid gray Friday afternoon, a meditation on green: A water droplet clings to the stem of a sweetgum leaf.
From this morning, I offer two more water droplet photographs along Piney Woods Church Road. I ought to do an exhibit on water someday….
Oh, what a magnificent morning! The air temperature was about sixty degrees, and the cool breeze was delightful. The sky was still overcast, and I felt a bit of mist against my skin as I made my way to Piney Woods Church Road. Evidence of the long overnight rainstorm were everywhere. To celebrate Day 135, I have chosen this macro of a single drop of water, containing an inverted roadside landscape, suspended from a horizontal plant stem.
I ventured out this morning into lingering fog after rain yesterday and overnight. I found endless delight in all the water droplets, like finely polished gems, that had collected on the surfaces of leaves and at their tips. My photograph today is the largest droplet I saw on my walk, suspended at the curled tip of a Chinese privet leaf.
After overnight rain, I set out down Piney Woods Church Road, noticing how the flow of water was already changing the newly-graded road surface, forming shallow channels where the water flowed, and excavating new potholes (or exhuming old ones?). One particular tulip poplar leaf caught my attention. On its underside were perched several minute water droplets, like temporary worlds. I saw a tiny black form swimming in one of the droplets; I suspect that a microscope would reveal many more.
A moderate breeze was blowing through the tulip poplar saplings on the morning after a long rainfall. I took this picture while the leaves swayed in the wind, water droplets clinging to their stems and upper surfaces. As proof that yesterday’s rain was quite intense, I include the bottom photograph: evidence that it did, in fact, rain dogwoods and catkins.
I was drawn to take this photograph by the line of tiny water droplets, like miniature glass marbles, cradled atop a blade of grass. While taking the photograph, I noticed that there also seemed to be water droplets along the underside of the grass blade. At home, viewing the image in Picassa, I was surprised to see these globes of water hanging so delicately, like suspended worlds. I included two near-identical pictures below because the second one includes an image of the photographer (the first one includes part of the photographer’s hand, but not his distinctive hat). Can you spot this unintended “selfie”?
A gentle rain overnight left Piney Woods Church Road covered with tiny jewels — water droplets reflecting the roadside landscape, upside-down in miniature. I think I would be content to spend the rest of my life just photographing drops of water for the wonders they contain.
