“Nature is filled with surprises. It’s the unusual that we notice. That’s what I love about being in it, there is always something new to make you wonder, How did that happen?”
– Ed Lehming
This is a new one to me, and as I stated in the quote above, nature always has surprises for me. Now, I have seen a single variant like this. Right behind our camper and directly outside the window, there is a single trillium which has blossomed green and white for the past few years.
Recently, I came across a variation of this where the entire flower was green. Here I found a bonanza, all the variations in one spot, though unfortunately, the white blossom had not opened fully.
Of course, once you spot a variation like this, in a forest filled with thousands of trilliums, you come to expect the unexpected and notice it far more often.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP AF 90mm f/2.8 Di Macro 1:1 (272ENII)@90mm
1/400 sec, f/9.0, ISO 400
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“Life and colour emerged from the ground with such abundance, you could fairly hear the leaves rustling with activity.”
– Ed Lehming
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I love this time of year, when wildflowers erupt from the carpet of dull brown leaves. Within a few days, the dull and seemingly lifeless forest floor is festooned with colour.
Among the first, in my area, are the delicate Sharp Lobed Hepatica. Some locals call it “Mayflower”, which is incorrect botanically but so appropriate given its abundance in May.
As I made this image, I sat on a hillside absolutely covered with them. I chose this composition because I liked how they grew around the dead branch and it showed the old and new leaves nicely. This particular cluster is pure white, though I saw many variances of light pinks, purples, and blues as well.
It was a wonderful and relaxing experience, sitting on the warm forest floor, surrounded by this bounty of wildflowers which also included Trout Lily, Trilliums (not yet blooming), Spring Beauties, Wild Leeks, Wild Ginger, and Blue Cohosh. There will be several more photos and stories to follow this one.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP AF 90mm f/2.8 Di Macro 1:1 (272ENII)@90mm
1/640 sec, f/10.0, ISO 250
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“Barely visible on first glance, it’s alien form surprises the first time viewer”
– Ed Lehming
It is so nice to finally make images with no snow. The past few weeks have been cool, wet, and miserable, with more rain than I care for. But, the rain melted the snow and ice away and provided lots of moisture to promote plant growth.
Over the past few days, the sun has been out and the ground has warmed up to the point where wildflowers are everywhere. The plants are emerging so quickly that you can almost hear the leaves rustling with the rapid growth.
Among the first to emerge for the duff and loam is Blue Cohosh, which is actually purple. As I began understanding the local wildflowers a few years ago, I was always intrigued by this strangely wonderful plan. Then, I made my first image of the flower, completely by accident, as I did not know they flowered. Since then, I have made many images of the flowers, each one revealing more detail than the last.
This close up shows all the wonderful detail of the almost alien looking flower against the soft tan background of the leaf covered forest.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP AF 90mm f/2.8 Di Macro 1:1 (272ENII)@90mm
1/250 sec, f/10.0, ISO 250
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“It’s so curious: one can resist tears and ‘behave’ very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer… and everything collapses. ”
―
Today, I grieve the loss of a dear soul. My wife’s cousin and my friend, Paul, passed away suddenly today after a valiant fight with the beast we call cancer. It’s a very sad time as I consider that tomorrow, I will see the dawn break, take a breath, and carry on with my day, a privilege denied to Paul.
Today, I think of my recent times with Paul, always aware of the illness within him, but always putting off what may happen tomorrow, till suddenly, tomorrow arrived and he is gone.
I consider the past few years of Paul’s life. Always a caring and deeply ethical person, he spent his last years largely rejected by the people who claimed to be his friends and support. Namely, the church he attended. The people who should have been his refuge and strength distanced themselves and put him down when all he sought was acceptance and caring. His church community took away everything that Paul cared for and gave him purpose. It makes me even sadder knowing that this situation went on, unresolved and my hope is that those who sought to harm him consider what they did to him.
For myself, I will miss his sense of humour, genuine caring, and commitment to anything he undertook. And while he may not always have had a bright smile on his face, he was a beautiful soul and the world is a lesser place with his passing.
I chose one of my recent paintings to share in Paul’s honour. The painting, named “Distant Shores” reminds me that we will meet again, though we don’t know where or when, but that meeting will be joyful.
“As the seasons changed, winter slowly released its hold on the land, receding in patches and revealing the first signs of spring, like a curtain being slowly drawn.”
– Ed Lehming
I chose this image today because I was very pleased with the composition and the elements that I wanted to communicate. I also did something that I often experiment with but rarely publish. The original photo was processed using the Prizma app on my iPhone. It allows me to apply art filters which render the image into something a bit more painterly and accents the mood I was after.
In this case, the image becomes a bit more ‘crunchy’ and looks a bit more like a coloured wood-cut. I played with several filters, all of which produced nice results, but in the end, I chose this as the most appealing option. Being able to test the image with several filters also revealed that I had a really nice composition since it read well with all the filters.
It’s not something I will be doing on a regular basis but it does allow me to employ some artistic interpretation of a photo.
iPhone 7 back camera @ 4.0mm
1/3425 sec; f/1.8; ISO 20
Prizma filter for iPhone
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“The pines stood defiantly on the hillside, their bark long since stripped by disease and the elements; exposed to the sun, and rain; vulnerable. Yet, they stood, despite what had befallen them.”
– Ed Lehming
I’ve photographed this grove of pine trees on many occasions over the past few years. Their appeal is that they stand out against the rest of the forest. They are a strong contrast to their surroundings; tall and straight, clearly dead for some time, but showing little sign of falling any time soon.
They appear skeletal, the bark has mostly fallen off, exposing the smooth gray and sun-bleached wood beneath. There are few signs off rot, though smaller branches are missing. They are simply ‘posts’ on the hill, standing tall against the background of their still living relatives and the delicate undergrowth which is beginning to fill the spaces between them.
I’m not sure what killed them as it is limited to these few trees, on the edge of a larger grove, but they have provided me many photographic opportunities as I pass them in different seasons and varying light. I’ll miss them when they finally fall, but I expect that will be many years from now unless someone deems them a danger and cuts them down.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 70 mm
1/4 sec, f/32.0, ISO 200
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“The ghosts of winter cling stubbornly to thin branches, fluttering as bright reminders of days gone by.”
– Ed Lehming
As the days warm, the ghostly and diaphanous leaves of the beech begin to fade. Throughout the winter their brightness was a welcome respite from the cold, gray, and seemingly lifeless forest.
They have survived the winter winds, snow, and ice, though the season has clearly taken its toll. The leaves, once a bright coppery gold, are now thin, bleached, and ragged. Yet, as we await the freshness of spring, even these tatters provide a most welcome brightness to the otherwise drab forest.
This particular beech tree, with its now faded and ghostly leaves, stands before a tree which fell to the ground over the winter, evidenced by the bright, exposed wood on the stump. The limited sunlight played on the ground and the last remnants of snow lay in the shadows. It’s a snapshot which nicely captures a very brief moment in the forest. A scene which plays out for me year after year and also provides a real challenge in lighting, contrast, and composition to communicate the mood adequately.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 70 mm
1/4 sec, f/29.0, ISO 200
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“Memory serves to remind us of the cycles we live in. Nothing is permanent, ever repeating; familiar, yet never quite the same.”
– Ed Lehming
As spring slowly takes hold, traces of winter still linger in the shadows and low places of the forest, a reminder of the days gone by. Yet, the warming air brings forth the promise of a new season, in yellows, browns, and greens, as the sun touches the ground once more.
The trails, though melting quickly this past weekend were still largely ice covered and treacherous and I found myself dealing with a mix of mud and ice which meant tricky footing, despite my wearing crampons.
I’m hoping by next week to see life returning among the winter detritus and a bit of greenery. For now, it’s a waiting game, but all the signs are right for things to pop soon.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 70 mm
1/4 sec, f/32.0, ISO 200
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“Winter’s parting left us traces of its touch; a bit of snow, a hint of frost, and cool breezes, as if someone had left a door open.”
– Ed Lehming
I wanted to revisit my beloved beech trees one last time before they wither into spring. Here, a closer look at the beautiful structure of the leaves, dusted in snow, from this past weekend’s unexpected dumping.
The brightness of the pure white snow almost enhances the golden glow of the leaves clinging to a single branch.
Many times I find myself spending particular attention to these leaves, always looking for the best angle to photograph them from, as light and background play a large part in the final composition. In this case, I used a moderate aperture setting to ensure the entire leaf was in focus while softening the background details, comprised mostly of snow-covered branches.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 200 mm
1/250 sec, f/8.0, ISO 200
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“Through our dark times, if we have eyes open in hope, we can see glimpses of what might be, in what was.”
– Ed Lehming
The beautiful brightness of beech leaves in winter, and early spring for that matter is always a welcome sight. Even on the dullest snow-filled days, they glow with soft gold, a reminder of the rich colours of autumn. The sun, even in limited amounts, makes them seem to shine with an internal light.
Beech trees tend to hang onto their leaves throughout the winter, despite snow, and wind, most survive well into early spring, when warm and damp days tend to cause them to finally decompose. Many look pretty ragged by the time April arrives, yet some weather the seasons with surprising tenacity.
I’m always happy for them. They remind me of mild and colour filled autumn days and their shine is like a small beacon of life among the dark and frozen branches.
In this image, a recent, and unwelcome early spring snowfall on the final day of March clings to the delicate branches of a beech sapling, making the remaining leaves seem all the brighter against the snow-encrusted forest in the background.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 135 mm
1/320 sec, f/9.0, ISO 200
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“March teased and taunted with hints of spring, but ended with a reminder that nature is in command, not the calendar, as warm rains turned to sleet and snow”
– Ed Lehming
It has been a very odd March, a very odd March indeed. The month started out as many Marches do in this area: with lengthening days interspersed with snow storms and sunshine as the weather patterns swing towards milder days, yet winter hangs on with tenacity.
The trails I travel are covered with ice, slowly receding and turning to mud. This often leads to a much slower pace as I step carefully along the paths, here and there is an indication of life returning to the world.
It’s a time of transition, of change. This year more than any others, especially in my work life. Mid-March I got the notice that my job of 33 years was being outsourced and I found myself in the uncharted world of premature retirement and having to make some difficult choices in a very tight timeline. In the end, it all worked out and I retired from my previous employer and was hired by the company that the work was outsourced to. It turned out to be a happy ending but caused much stress and anxiety as my world was turned upside down.
So, I chose this image, made yesterday,. Something for me to reflect on, as my work world calmed down, the natural world was thrown backwards once more.
For me, the message is that the natural cycles always work out, eventually and what we consider normalcy returns.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 70 mm
1/500 sec, f/11.0, ISO 400
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“When you can take pleasure in the simple beauty life offers, then you are truly blessed.”
– Ed Lehming
Often, even the most mundane things draw my attention. Though I have stood on rugged vistas and surveyed sights that have left me in awe and speechless I’m still fascinated with the very simple beauty of my everyday surroundings.
In this case, a single small red berry hangs from a vine in the sunshine in early spring. A drop of dew clings tenaciously to it, further enhancing the feeling of freshness. The isolation of this single berry, the last one remaining on the vine is in such contrast to the dull gray world around it.
In the background, the world is awakening from its winter slumber, colour slowly returning, yet traces of snow remain to remind us that winter is not such a distant memory.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP AF 90mm f/2.8 Di Macro 1:1 (272ENII)@90mm
1/60sec, f/4.0, ISO 200
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“As winter releases its grip, memories of warmer are revealed”
– Ed Lehming
I’ve spent a lot of time recently walking around my town. Primarily due to convenience and partly because the late winter forests have been fairly uninspiring. I’m always looking for unusual things that might make for an interesting photo.
Many times, I will see something that catches my eye and I spend more time observing the scene or object, trying to understand why it stood out. I also see things as they may be. What I mean by that is that I use a bit of an impressionist’s eye to extract more than just the object itself.
Here, I came across a boulder emerging from the ice along the path that I was walking on. The way the light played on the ice, and a bit on the rock, made for an interesting composition.
I’ve also started to paint, so I’m looking for subjects that may lend themselves to this treatment. Often I’m not sure exactly how I may create a painting, but have the advantage of several plug-ins that allow me to ‘play’ with the image to form my final approach.
That’s what I did here. I took the photo from my iPhone and applied a few filters to get me to where I want to go with an eventual painting.
iPhone 7 back camera @ 4 mm
1/15 sec; f/1.8; ISO 1600
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“Amidst our comfortable habitations, we need to be reminded that nature is always wanting to take back what is hers”
– Ed Lehming
As a photographer, I like contrast, I look for it as I create my images. So, when I’m faced with other contrasts, I take notice.
While on vacation in Cozumel this past January I could not help but notice how the resort had been literally carved out of the surrounding jungle. I hope this was done deliberately, as I have seen many resort properties bulldoze the surrounding lands to make the resort look ‘civilized’. I’m not sure that’s even the right word or their actual intent.
I loved this sharp contrast between developed and undeveloped land as I walked along an outer walkway, the bustling resort on one side and the natural landscape to the other side. A fence acted as a secondary boundary. Judging by its height, it was designed to keep two-legged trespassers out, as the birds, rodents, and lizards hardly seemed to notice it.
The ‘wall’ of the jungle is impressively imposing and seemingly impassable, reminding me of the old Tarzan movies where the guide hacks a passage through the undergrowth with a machete. I stood, transfixed, a few times, simply letting my eyes drift through the tightly interwoven plants, loving the many values of green before me. That, and the wonderful variation in textures. The one element missing, and I am grateful for it, is the swarms of mosquitoes, nicely controlled by regular spraying.
iPhone 7 back camera @ 4.0mm
1/30 sec; f/1.8; ISO 32
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“Among the detritus of winter lay the signs of resignation and defeat”
– Ed Lehming
Oh, I am so done with this winter. March is hanging on, raw and ragged, teasing with hints of warmth and melting the snow into dirty gray piles of grime. As the snows recede, the history of the winter gradually reveals itself. Usually, this is in the form of garbage, trapped in the layers of snow.
This scene did strike me as funny though. Sometime over the winter somebody had broken not one but two snow shovels and discarded them on the very thing that defeated them. There’s likely more to this story, but as I walked past it, a smile crossed my face and I made up my own story to explain this scene and I decided to stop and grab a quick image.
You may notice the Canadian flag, high and in the distance. The flag was deliberately placed within my frame. It made me think of mountain climbers leaving their flag at the top of a mountain, though not all manage to ‘summit’ and are also resigned to walk back down the hill, defeated, as someone else’s flag waves proudly above them. It also serves as a reminder of winters in Canada.
iPhone 7 back camera @ 4 mm
1/590 sec; f/1.8; ISO 20
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“The most amazing thing about the winter is that even a frozen world may be perceived as a heaven!”
―
Here we are in March and the temperatures are finally starting to moderate. What better time than today to post this self-portrait I made back in late January.
It seems to me to have been a particularly harsh and too oft ice-cold winter in Southern Ontario this year. That weather has not deterred me from getting out there and making images, as evidenced from the included photo, which reminds me of those vintage images of the Antarctic explorers, so I ‘grunged’ it up a bit for effect.
I recall that day well, having spent a few hours out in the ridiculously cold weather. A day where my long lens seized up because it was so cold out. On my return to the truck, I stopped for a moment to snap this self-portrait to remind me just how cold I felt.
Yet, despite the deep and intense cold that day, I was able to capture a few images that would otherwise have gone unrealized. Like the accompanying quote states so well, there is still stunning beauty to be witnessed, even on the coldest winter days, yet only those of us brave, or stupid enough to go out in it bear witness.
iPhone 7 front camera @ 2.87mm
1/20 sec; f/2.2; ISO 250
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“Beneath the rust and grime which dulls the shine of our weathered hearts, joy patiently waits to be rediscovered”
―
For my photography, image titles often come quite easily. As I venture into the world of acrylic painting, I’m finding that that’s not the case. Perhaps it’s the extended creation process, where I am spending a longer period of time creating the art itself?
Photos come naturally to me. I see a scene before me that is interesting, compose the image, set lighting, exposure and depth of field, and voila! I have a photo that I am generally pleased with.
The same holds true with painting. There is a lot of thought that goes into the process that I had not considered until I started painting a few short years ago and I have not been doing much lately. But now, I have taken a course and understand that the creative process is very similar and all the elements that make a good photo also hold true for painting.
I’ve always enjoyed impressionist paintings and have striven for that same feel with my photos. Now, I’m trying to merge the two, simply to stay creative, especially in winter months where outdoor activity can be quite limited. So, I’ve pushed myself a bit, trying to add some texture to my work by doing an entire painting with a palette knife, way out of my comfort zone, but so very satisfying.
Once again, I remind myself this is my photo blog, but I think that painting is helping me in my creative process for photography and this is, after all, a photo of a painting.
“Hark, now hear the sailors cry,
Smell the sea, and feel the sky,
Let your soul & spirit fly, into the mystic.”
– Van Morrison
During the days I spend sitting on the shores in Cozumel this past January, one thing that was every present, except one stormy day, was the non-stop traffic of boats going by, just offshore. It was a mix of dive boats, fishing boats, and pleasure craft, but it was ceaseless.
From the break of dawn till early evening, the boats floated by, some lazily and others seemingly in a race to get the best spot first. And all the while, their wake rolled gently to the beach, long after their passing.
There was a certain pleasure in the act of simply resting on the beach and watching this activity, which was the only real measure of time, simply through its regularity.
I tried to capture that lazy feeling through a timed horizontal pan, rendering the photo a deliberately blurry and abstract image, as if waking from a dream. The red boat, just passing, is visible, but not immediately, as your eyes scan the scene presented.
It’s very calming for me now, reflecting back on these lazy, sun-baked days, with not a care in the world where, like the Van Morrison song, my soul and spirit did fly, into the mystic.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 70 mm
1/4 sec, f/32.0, ISO 100
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“We sat together silently in the tropical warmth of the beach, gazing over the calm waters and watching the sun slip closer to the horizon, marking the end of another day in brilliant splendour”
– Ed Lehming
I know, I’m mixing winter images with summer-like scenes but can’t help but be drawn back to this time spent in Cozumel with friends and family. Every day more relaxing than the previous one.
The days started and ended on the beach, watching gentle waves roll in from faraway places. My hope was to capture some of this experience in photos. In this image, the sun hangs lazily just above the horizon as a final dive boat heads out for a night dive.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 105 mm
1/200 sec, f/7.1, ISO 100
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“It’s the unexpected beauty in the most commonplace that often surprises us”
– Ed Lehming
This has been the nature of winter in my region. The days warm and cool rapidly, causing condensation and wonderful frost patterns on windows.
The window here happens to be right next to my desk, so I see the patterns change on a regular basis. It’s especially nice in late afternoon, when the low sun shines between the pine trees behind my house. It’s been a nice bit of colour in the otherwise dull winter we have had lately.
iPhone 7 back camera @ 4.0mm
1/500 sec; f/1.8; ISO 20
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“In the deep of winter, colour and sound fade to nothingness. The world becomes muted and silent as it slumbers beneath the snow”
– Ed Lehming
As a lover of light and colour, winter can often be the hardest on me, especially when seeking inspiration and beauty. In the winter months, it’s not just the drastic reduction of colours, but also the silence. So many times, the only sound I hear is the crunch of snow beneath my feet, the wind, above, and the groaning of the trees as the frost takes hold.
Occasionally, a flash of colour shows through, but for the most part, the world is plunged into innumerable shades of gray; the only colour being the rare blue sky above or the bright yellow of exposed wood, where a branch has broken off or a woodpecker has exposed fresh wood through its labours.
As I hiked last weekend, I was caught in a bit of an unexpected squall. There was really no wind to speak of, just an ever-increasing snowfall which further muted the world. There is a certain beauty in this silence. I find my senses more attuned and I become more aware of the world around me as my path leads forth into the white haze ahead.
Here, I simply stood still and let the silence fill me for a few minutes as I made the image, a reminder when I complain about the heat of summer.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 70 mm
1/160 sec, f/6.3, ISO 400
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“The snow began, as a faint mist, floating in the air, gradually softening the distant trees”
– Ed Lehming
So it was, that March morning, a day that started out dull, the forecast calling for light snow, which did not seem to materialize as I started my hike. Then slowly, a beautiful and unexpected brightness filled the forest, taking away some of the dull cast of ceaseless clouds that have dominated this winter.
It was at this moment, when I stood surrounded by tall pines, that I noticed the first traces of snowfall. The snow began, gently at first, and the colours of the trees seemed just a bit more intense, a brief flash of vibrancy before the coming squall turned them dark once more.
That cycle of light is quite amazing and once you really experience it, I find it makes you more attuned to the surroundings and that ever-present play of light is what makes photography so enjoyable. Even on a dull and snow filled day in early March.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 70 mm
1/4 sec, f/20.0, ISO 400
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“The difference between darkness and brightness is how you thrive on those moments and how you use such circumstances with goodwill in your spirit.”
―
I find myself, on this day in early March, wondering where time has gone. It’s been many weeks since I felt inspired to sit and write. I’ve been out making photos, but the days have been cold, dull, and largely uninspiring.
Today, I set forth to spend some time in nature and see what she had to say to me, among the trees. And, once more, I found myself alone on the trails, the solitude and quite refreshing me. The only sounds I heard were the crunching of my boots in the crisp snow and the gentle breeze among the branches.
I’d only gotten a few minutes into my hike when light snow began to float down around me, further quieting the world around me. The sparse snow soon built into a full squall by the time I got further along the trail, refreshing the scenery and sticking to the thin branches along the trail.
Through this curtain of white, the occasional shimmer of bright colour flashed life into the winter world. The dried leaves of the beech trees, which hold fast throughout the winter, were like orange flames dancing in the dark branches. One that really stood out for me is pictured above. The thin beech tree appears to adorn the large maple behind it with it wonderful leaves, to the point where you hardly notice the beech and are fooled, without closer inspection, to believe the colour belongs to the maple.
It’s moments like this, where I simply need to pause and enjoy the scenes before me that continue to draw me outdoors, regardless of the weather.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 100 mm
1/100 sec, f/5.0, ISO 400
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“The waves lapped lazily on tropical shores,
warm and gentle breezes caressed the palms.
My very soul is refreshed by the peace of the day.”
– Ed Lehming
This image is in stark contrast to my recent Iceland series. I had not considered that I might be in the tropics mere months after my northern adventures. Both experiences have been incredibly refreshing, in completely different ways. The warm breezes and lush growth is so completely different from Iceland.
The similarity is that both places offered a slow pace. There was no urgency to be anywhere or do anything, which is a much-needed break from my busy work life. And both places offered experiences which I will hold in my memory forever.
While one felt nearly devoid of life, the other was bursting with life, colour, and diversity. The harsh and wind-swept lava mountains of the near arctic were replaced with palm trees and teaming ocean life.
I’ve been truly blessed in my ability to experience both places so close together in time that I can readily compare their virtues. What a fabulous world we live in!
iPhone 7 back camera @ 4.0mm
1/320 sec; f/1.8; ISO 20
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“Autumn carries more gold in its pocket than all the other seasons.”
―
I know, I’m a bit behind. This image was made on December 20th of last year. This image keeps popping up as I review my photos and I knew that I wanted to post it at some point soon. That time has now come.
This is actually an odd image in that the leaves are actually compressed by multiple snowfalls and thaws, three or four to my recollection, to the point in time when I made the image. The oak leaves, which dominate this scene hung onto the trees until early November this past autumn, which is odd as well.
The main reason I keep going back to this image is that most of my time spent on the trails is enjoying the scenery around me; the trees, the sky, the rolling hills, and such. Yet, I do spend even more time looking at the ground, as I navigate my way along trails, watching my step. Yet, I rarely consider the ground as a subject for my photos. I could actually create a whole series of interesting images documenting even a small section of the trail, since the composition changes so much over even a few meters.
The forest floor documents the surrounding forest so well. All the species of trees are proportionately represented here. In this case, it’s primarily red oak, with some sugar maple, and a smattering of poplar. There is also great variation in the colours of the leaves. Here the oak leaves vary from deep copper to pale yellow.
It’s like a painting made of leaves and I’m disappointed that I have not made more of these. They are so interesting and, if composed correctly, a very natural form of art.
iPhone 7 back camera @ 4.0mm
1/120 sec; f/1.8; ISO 40
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“Beauty is subjective, yet there are times when even the simplest thing can bright joy to our lives.”
– Ed Lehming
One of the many reasons that I spend time outdoors hiking and making photos is the sheer joy of seeing something breathtaking in what many would consider mundane circumstances.
Many of the trails I’ve hiked, I have hiked hundreds of times and yet, almost every time, I see something new and wonderful. It may be a new flower where none has bloomed before, or a new sapling emerging from a decaying stump, or simply the way light catches the growth at a certain time of day or year.
It’s scenes like this, within a planted forest in transition, that make me stop and look deeper. Beneath the canopy of planted red pines, new growth emerges in the form of young red pines and beech trees. There are other shrubs emerging too but the bright green of the pine and the twinkling gold of the beech trees in the afternoon sunlight is almost magical to me and they stand out from the scene. It may be a simple composition, but it does what I intend, it captures the ‘feeling’ of this small patch of forest on a late December afternoon, through colours and texture. And for me, that is beautiful. I can almost feel the rough bark of the pines and hear the birds singing high in the branches above me.
As I have often said, it’s not always the grand vistas that amaze me, even more so, it’s the simple beauty right in front of me that most would pass by without a second glance.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 70 mm
1/40 sec, f/3.2, ISO 100
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“A rock may seem a sound foundation but deep, nourished, and interwoven roots will hold surprisingly fast over time”
– Ed Lehming
This tree growing around a large boulder at the top of a hill got me really thinking, as I made this image a few weeks ago. It seems that the boulder would be a challenging place to grow. In fact, as I considered this image, I tried to think of the process that would create this oddity. Did the tree start growing here and the frost gradually pushed the boulder up? Or did the tree start growing in a small patch of soil on top of the boulder?
It also got me thinking of the notion of the rock being a solid and somewhat permanent object to use as an anchor, yet the rock is not connected to anything and that diminishes its ability to support the tree. I imagine a strong wind or more heaving from frost will loosen this perch over a few years, yet there is a conflict here. The roots, wrapped around the rock fasten it in place, preventing movement.
The real strength here is in the deep roots, spreading and anchoring the tree and rock. Based on the size and age of the tree, this seems to be working but it’s very strange and unique.
How often do we embark on projects, firm in our resolve that things are solid when, in our limited perspective, we are anchored on less than we think?
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 175 mm
1/50 sec, f/6.3, ISO 200
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“There is something sacred about stillness. The world has not changed, outside our bounds, we just realize peace and tranquility are possible, if we make space for it.”
– Ed Lehming
This is what I’m often faced with, as I take time to hike the local forests. It’s not a grand vista or a festival filled with brightly dressed people. The forest, in its simplest form, even at its gloomiest, still has pockets of beauty to share.
Here, bright orange beech leaves and the occasional stray oak leaf brightened the path in contrast to the dark December trees. Gentle snow drifted between the boughs and all the world was silent as I stood still on the trail, simply enjoying the peacefulness of the moment, my visible breath rising through the air around my face.
I love these times, where my senses are filled with the life of the forest. It’s what draws me here. You see, even in apparent stillness and calm, life in the forest goes on. Soon, small birds flit between branches, seeking seeds, squirrels scamper out of sight and into the high branches, and the very trees crackle as the temperature dips, yet the sense of stillness rarely departs. The other sound that fills my ears is the crunch of the snow beneath my feet, seeming so loud in this quiet retreat.
Though summer hikes have their appeal, I think I prefer the stillness and bright purity of winter, especially after a fresh snow, when the whole first seems to be inhaling deeply during its long rest.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 95 mm
1/60 sec, f/5.6, ISO 400
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
“Like most boundaries, they have two aspects. What is inside it and what is outside, it all depends upon which side you are on”
– Ed Lehming
I’m still in retrospect mode, moving through photos I made last year, considering the thinking behind their creation and the feelings I was experiencing when I made them.
Much of this is influenced by the world around me, though I try my utmost to detach from the negatives constantly bombarding us these days. One of the themes that was inescapable is the concept of boundaries, both physical and conceptual. A boundary is a point of separation, some boundaries have a transition zone and others are abrupt, often driven by the intent of the boundary.
In the case of this photo, the boundary between winter and autumn is quite abrupt, which is what made me stop to consider what I was seeing. The entire autumn in my area has been highly changeable, transitioning from snow, to rain, to sunshine, with snow never remaining on the ground for more than a few days. This also meant that any snowfall was temporary, at best. Here, the shade of the pine trees shelters a section of snow, creating a very defined boundary.
As I made the image, the thought about the nature of boundaries began to form. After all, if I stand on the boundary and look one way, I’m greeted with a snow filled and wintry view. Yet, if I remain in the same spot and turn around, it’s a late autumn day. If I did not have the benefit of seeing the whole picture, I could assume it is one season, when it is not. So, the boundary is, like I noted in my quote, really dependent on which side you are on and which way you are looking. It’s a concept I would like to continue to build on over the next few months.
Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 92 mm
1/4 sec, f/16.0 ISO 400
For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com
Ed Lehming Photography 
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