"Mary Mary quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockle shells
And pretty maids all in a row."
This was supposed to be the post where I got out little garden tools and gloves and took cleverly composed photos. It was going to be colorful and pretty, and make you ache to get your hands dirty.
I was going to shoot a closeup of an old timer's hands wrapped around the handle of his faithful hoe. They would have been tired and worn hands, yet glowing with the youthful promise of a bountiful harvest. You would have seen that in my photo. I had planned it well.
I was going to bring you flowers and fruits and veggies, just as fresh as my photos.
I had hoped to catch a woman in a bonnet or a vintage straw hat walking towards me with a basket full of freshly cut herbs in one hand. I wanted her to be wearing a floral cotton print dress, tennis shoes, and carrying her clippers in the other hand - the ones she bought not at Wal-Mart but at our local hardware store. Her once off-white garden gloves would have been good gloves that had held the test of time. A little tear here, a little wear there, but a few more seasons still left in them.
I wanted to capture the smell of gasoline when a hand-tiller cranked up, black smoke blowing out of the back of it. Can you capture the smell of something in a photo? I believe so.
Indeed, I was going to show off the best of Crisfield's gardens and gardeners.
But, Old Man Time and Old Man Weather got together, pulling off a double whammy on me. I hate double whammies.
"The best laid plans of mice and photographers..."
We have had nothing but rain for the past week, so people have not been working in their yards or gardens. It is getting ready to rain again.
I just know that after everyone posts their lovely photos, and looks at my not so fresh photos, the sun will be shining brightly, drying out the ground, and come Saturday, I will not be able to leave the house without blinders on.
Yes, everyone will be out working in their gardens. The light will be right and the compositions magnificent. Only a photographer who lives with deadlines could understand the agony in finding all the perfect photos laid out on a platter one minute after the presses shut down.
Alas, I have failed my town, and you, my Fellow Friday Shoot Out Bloggers. All I have to show are a few flower shots I was able to pick up today while on my way back from an assignment. And some stale photos. But I did post. I made the deadline! And after all, next Friday is another shoot out.
Let's go back to fall again. Hey, this is getting to be fun!
Just a hop, skip, and a jump up the road at the right time of year, and you can visit the Daffodil Festival.
Into the future (or past) to harvest the crops.
Is it real or is it...? You will have to visit me to find out if the tulips in my pots are real.
You can never have too many pumpkin photos.
What's different about this picture?
Let's move on to watermelon season.
Let's time warp into fall. Oh, I'm getting dizzy.
This photo needs no words.
Now let's go back to Tuesday. I took this coming home from Baltimore. We were in our county, and almost home when I told my husband to hit the breaks. Another version of this ran on the front page of the newspaper on Wednesday. I just can't pass up a feature shot. Too bad he was not plowing, but it was way to wet for that.
Does anyone know the meaning of my beginning poem? I used to enjoy that little rhyme when I was little. If you are watching the Tudors on Showtime watch out for Mary. Is that a spoiler? Nah. Just don't Google the poem.
Here is a more appropriate quote, after you forgive me for being so lax in my assignment, of course:
"The World is so empty if one thinks only of the mountains, rivers, and cities;
but to know someone who thinks and feels with us, and who, though distant
is close to us in spirit, this makes the earth for us an inhabited garden." - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Goethe would have never dreamed that one day those words would be sent out to people of like spirit with a push of a button. How cosmic can that be?
Love from Crisfield, a place that really does have beautiful gardens, both in yards and hearts.