Staying at home is easy; but getting up and doing something – especially these days – requires effort. Excitement helps in doing so. And what is more exciting than spring and the flight of the first wild bees? So I was heading up to one of the botanical gardens to chase some pictures. Not only for the anticipated result itself, bur more so for some distraction from the sorrow. This time around the wait was fruitless. Until: A lonely bumblebee came around. The only one, sluggishly exploring the flowers, interrupted by long rests in the sun light. Excitement faded, work called, and the suffering continued.
Spring, flowers, sun. Finally some motivation to go outside again and search for the most beautiful early bloomers. This year, I could profit from all the scouting I did last year: Besides the botanical gardens and large patches right in front of the town hall, I now know about several other spots: Off the beaten track at the river, hidden deep within in a small forest, and at the outskirts of the city. All of these locations have on thing in common: They are calm, quiet, and you have them for yourself. And, as always, there is lots to learn every time I go outside. The main insight this year so far is quite straight-forward: isolate the subject and have clear edges of the frame. The subject should emerge from within the frame, not from outside. But you can judge for yourself which ones you find most intriguing:
Bright beam of light within the night,
a scenery in black and white.
Dreams are extremes
but, as it seems,
color soaks in and strokes begin
to rise and shine, a hopeful sign.
Deceiving thoughts,
are leaving spots,
and what is left is sparse:
unite and fight for what is right,
do not incite, do bring delight.
Scattered bodies,
overrun,
a single error,
one last breath,
machine gun terror,
reign of death.
Barren friendships,
endless war clips,
dreadful horror,
needless sorrow.
Sons with guns are
rolling dice,
to sacrifice
their universe.
Little time has passed since I wrote about peace. And here we are, shaken by war – it has been a rude awakening. The mind is trapped in a not so distant country while the body remains comfortably at home. The war is close now and, as it seems, this makes all the difference. Back then I asked myself: Would I fight? What for? The questions keep lingering, flare up, and sink down again. I don’t want to fight. I cannot fight. But then again, the mind is made for adaptation. Many men over there were probably thinking the same a few weeks ago. And in presence of such blatant failure of the human race we still wonder what the great filter might be.
Who doesn’t like Top Ten lists? Admittedly, I couldn’t resist and here is a list of mine, however, it doesn’t contain ten elements. Instead, I have searched the archives for my favorite pictures from the last 12 month – because today it’s this blogs first birthday.
Morning Gymnastics
Two geese, Hometown.
Morning mist & our local pond: A perfect match.
Nestling
A small pine, Harz.
The mystical Harz mountains. One of my early pictures and, until today, probably the best conditions I have ever had in Harz.
Protected
Bee in action, Hometown.
Looking forward to the time of the year when nature is coming alive again.
The Dream
Toad on migration, Harz.
Also in the Harz mountains, in one of the most remote regions. I was quite excited when we saw a single toad on our hike. An hour later there were so many that it became difficult not to step onto one.
One of my goals for this year: Photographing more poppies!
Closing the Circle
Sunset ICM, Hometown.
Spirals in a sunset, warm and cold swirling around each other, as night greets day.
Duck
Duck, Hometown.
Not much else to say here.
Triplet
Three dead spruces, Harz.
It took longer than expected to find this composition of trees during the first snow of the winter.
Parabola
Birch tree catching light, Hometown.
A single birch tree catching the first rays of light in front of the dark forest.
Travellers
Geese, Hometown.
The geese at our local pond during autumn: Every morning flocks of birds start off into the unknown.
Group Picture
Birch trees, Solling.
This makes me wanna photograph more woodlands; unfortunately, fog is rather rare around here.
Rising Clouds
Woodlands, Harz.
Perfect conditions as far as photography during noon goes. Rising clouds and snowy spruces came together.
Companion
Sandpiper, Denmark.
Cuddly, fluffy, tiny.
Lines
Retreating waves, Denmark.
First and only time so far that I have photographed the ocean; looking forward to going there again.
Backlit
Common Blue, Bavaria.
There are many variations of this picture in my archives. This monochromatic one has become one of my favourites.
Aspirations
Three eucalyptus trees, Madeira.
Besides birches, I fell in love with eucalyptus trees: their red bark in contrast to the green leaves and the shape of their branches is wonderful.
Mountain Ranges
Rofan mountains, Alps.
The colors and mood of a sunrise in the mountains cannot be communicated with photos.
Delicate Connections
Water droplets on grass, Hometown.
Two single droplets of water and fine spider webs form an abstract imagery.
Approach
Soldier beetle, Hometown.
Patience, patience, patience. I am looking forward to the day where I can sit and wait in nature as long as I want, without obligations waiting around.
Ordered Chaos
Beech trees in fog, Hometown.
Our local woodlands in late Autumn. I had been waiting for fog for a long time and when it finally arrived, I spent a whole morning outside exploring new paths.
Simplicity
Blossoms of a cherry tree, Hometown.
One of the simplest shots one could make.
Fairytale
Woodlands ICM, Near Hometown.
One of the (very) few times we got snow this winter. We explored some woods close by for the first time as the morning sun unfolded.
The Conversation
4 geese, Hometown.
Four geese on a landing stage enjoying the first rays of warm light, chatting about the happenings of past week.
Cold White Christmas World
Winter, Harz.
Starry night, cold air.
Commander
Group of trees, Madeira.
It were definitely the harshest conditions I shot in this year: Rain pouring down, wind sweeping across the land.
Seagull Portray
Seagull, Madeira.
The palette of colors and ocean in the background is what makes me like this one.
Crooked Heart
Highland cattle, Hometown.
Finding piece in a single picture.
Falling Into Place
At a levada, Madeira.
25 springs are welling right next to this waterfall. A special place and, sadly, quite crowded because of it.
Reminiscence
Sunset, Brocken.
Compositionally quite boring; but a special one to me, because it was a delightful evening trip with my parents.
One of the last exercises in an introductory course to programming I teach is to implement a straight-forward approach for modeling population growth over discrete time steps with a logistic growth function: The population x of a species at time t+1 is determined as x(t+1) = r * x(t) * (1-x(t)) where x(t) is the population at time t, and r is a fixed reproduction parameter. The choice of r influences the long term behaviour of the resulting time series – thus, the growth of the species population; for example, for r < 1, the series tends towards zero – the species goes extinct. However, for r > 3 the series oscillates – it exhibits a periodic behaviour (for some values of r the series even becomes seemingly random without a fixed period, see e.g. here). The length of the period depends upon r, but it never reaches an equilibrium; like a pendulum, swinging around its only stable position in the middle. Like life pulsating between non-steady positions, but never reaching a balanced state.
Oscillations are present constantly. The term (1-x(t)) models the environmental restrictions that prohibit unlimited growth. Restrictions which prevent us to come to a rest. The fantasy of a steady state is a futile one. There are times where a stable position seems in reach; until external restraints pull us back into another direction. At the moment, it’s the direction of work; and hence, photography and blog posts are somewhat neglected. Winter already fades again, making way for summer. Left are only some solitary pictures of oscillating camera movements and colorless nature.
She walks lightly, old man. She walks lightly upon the earth.
John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
From nothing, to being, to remembering, to being remembered, to nothing. Memories come, memories fade, become stories, get forgotten. Lost in a loosing universe; one of many. We only shape the being, we only choose the remembering.
Light snowfall decorates the pastures. Cold wind sweeps through my hair. Friends and family are with me, not only in my heart. I am as satisfied as one could be. But then, I notice it. A foreign species: standing still, patiently, waiting on the other side of the fence, observing me carefully; while the snowflakes settle in on the creatures head. I approach it slowly. My mother always taught me: If unsure what to do, just mimic your opposite – and so I do: carefully, I observe back. I fathom what happens within its mind: Are there thoughts about the landscape? The next meal? About the absurdity of our mutual and reciprocal study? Or is this creature not capable of such thoughts? Does it just dwell in this moment, right here? Enchanted by the simplicity of nature? Why does it seek our company? There are no answers, only silence. No one will know, and no one will remember. I cautiously moo to call the others – so that we can observe the pale-skinned creature together, as it is operating a small black box from time to time. Until it leaves again and we settle in for the night.
When does it all
fall into place?
Why does it feel
like it's a race?
The trail entrenched,
the water clear,
my body wrenched
by wicked fear.
The weight weighs down,
the lone souls drown –
no escape, just chains,
fate leaves the town.
Wrath claims the crown:
Where have I been?
What have I done?
Escaped my sin, a lying grin
remains.
I have written about botanical gardens earlier. We visited another one, and what a treat it was: Plants, birds, blossoms, greens, oranges, and everything in between – the botanical garden in Funchal belongs to the main attractions of the town for a good reason; and who would have thought that pigeons are such a photogenic subject.
Punkt im Dunkeln 