Ready and Waiting
Inside the hirsute, purple petals of the Eastern Pasqueflower (Pulsatilla patens) is a miniature firework of yellow anthers with a white stigma fountain in the center. I recently discovered a large population of these flowers by the light of the full moon in a place near Boulder where I have been night-hiking for years. They are closed up at night though, and the daytime view is a bit more inviting.
I have heard from far more accomplished macro photographers than I that the key to photos like this is to get down on one's belly and meet the flower on its own turf, as it were. When I saw this diminutive specimen in the forest off to the side of the trail, I dutifully attempted the move, prostrating myself on the forest floor as my family stood by, wondering how long I might make them wait. As it turned out, the mutt also took this posture as his cue to run up, step directly on my photographic subject, and roll over, waiting for me to pet him. My wife called him back and amazingly the flower was fine - I took this photo after he had returned to sniffing about further down the trail. So far, I have discovered that dogs are neither helpful gardeners nor helpful photographic assistants.
Happy spring-time!
Ready and Waiting
Inside the hirsute, purple petals of the Eastern Pasqueflower (Pulsatilla patens) is a miniature firework of yellow anthers with a white stigma fountain in the center. I recently discovered a large population of these flowers by the light of the full moon in a place near Boulder where I have been night-hiking for years. They are closed up at night though, and the daytime view is a bit more inviting.
I have heard from far more accomplished macro photographers than I that the key to photos like this is to get down on one's belly and meet the flower on its own turf, as it were. When I saw this diminutive specimen in the forest off to the side of the trail, I dutifully attempted the move, prostrating myself on the forest floor as my family stood by, wondering how long I might make them wait. As it turned out, the mutt also took this posture as his cue to run up, step directly on my photographic subject, and roll over, waiting for me to pet him. My wife called him back and amazingly the flower was fine - I took this photo after he had returned to sniffing about further down the trail. So far, I have discovered that dogs are neither helpful gardeners nor helpful photographic assistants.
Happy spring-time!