Pretty Poison

poison 2

It is hard to believe that something so pretty can be so poisonous.

Along many roads in Ontario, wild parsnip grows abundantly.  We’ve warned the children about it, reminded ourselves to keep an eye out when we walk among plants.  Now, these golden weeds are drying out for fall.  Their starburst-like shape makes for pretty pictures, and I can’t resist photographing them (although you can be sure I keep my distance!).

These are flowers I won’t be picking.

Falling Fences

barbed wire 1

I’ve driven by scenes like this dozens of times.  And every time, I’ve wished I could stop to photograph them.  Because of time, or not having my camera, or there not being a safe place to stop, I never did.

I’ve seen scenes like this more than ever since moving to Ontario.  So after dropping the kids off at school, I headed out with my camera to see if I could capture a shot or two of these gorgeous rustic fences at the edge of fields.

This is one.

Silken Moments

bw web

It was foggy when I woke up this morning.

My immediate reaction was to grab my camera and head out into the backyard.  But there were limited subjects as the effects of the fog are difficult to see close up.  At least, that’s what I thought until I discovered this web on my back porch.

Suddenly, the possibilities multiplied.

I captured this delicate web several times (you can see more web photos here), then quickly realized there were others, each one slightly different from the one before.  The light was perfect and the fog had left tiny droplets along the threads of the web.

I was grateful for these tiny creations in my backyard.

Later, after returning home from a morning appointment, the webs were gone.  No doubt more will be strung across the railings tomorrow; however, these exact lines, these patterns of silk and water and light were but a single moment.

A reminder to appreciate the little things.

X is for X-ray

I’m working on an alphabet book, making a photo for each letter.  Unsurprisingly, some letters were more difficult than others.

Take “x” for instance.  My children are beyond the age of having a little xylophone in the toy box.  What I did have was an x-ray.

A few years ago, our pug thought it was a good idea to ingest a number of objects he found around the house:  a bobby pin, Lego, a rope.  It was the rope that caused the problem (and cost us the bank!).  For some reason, I held onto the x-ray.

It was awhile before I could remember where I’d put it, but when I did, I taped it to our patio doors and took a few shots.  The part of the x-ray showing the object has faded somewhat but remains strangely fascinating:


However, it is the edges of the x-ray that caught my attention.  It must have gotten wet, or maybe it’s just the age of the film, but it has developed (no pun intended!) the look of patina that the photographer in me loves:


Strange Noises


I took my camera into the backyard this morning.  As I stood there searching for photo possibilities, I listened to the birds singing and felt grateful for the final arrival of spring.

But there was another sound, too.

A faint crinkling came from the ground, leaving me to believe there could be snakes slithering near my feet.  I stood still, ready to flee should I spot them.  The more I listened, however, the more I realized it couldn’t possibly be snakes as the sound seemed to be coming from all around me.

It took me a moment to realize what the sound was:  the grass pushing through the dried leaves covering the earth.

It was the sound of the grass growing.