Crab's eye view

When I need to escape, I always choose to go to a beach. I don't know if that's reliving happy childhood memories, or if everyone feels that way. I would certainly be very reluctant to live somewhere from which you couldn't easily reach the seaside. I will not be moving to Kansas any time soon.

It's not that the seaside is tame - one of the things that scared me most was when I once walked at midnight on a pitch black beach on Florida's Atlantic coast. The sea and the sky were so dark they seemed empty. It was ridiculously and illogically frightening. 

But this sort of beach, Kearney, on the Ards Peninsula, on a sunny afternoon in late September, is the opposite. It was so light and joyous that I lay on my back on the uncomfortable stones and just felt happy.

I hope you enjoy my pale, grainy crab's eye views of the unassuming sea plants which surrounded me, and others from my afternoon's wandering. 

A bouquet

I'll never stop being fascinated by old buildings. But sometimes a giant bunch of flowers to photograph makes a nice change.

Anemones

Summer for thee, grant I may be
When Summer days are flown!
Thy music still, when Whipporwill
And Oriole—are done!

For thee to bloom, I'll skip the tomb
And row my blossoms o'er!
Pray gather me—
Anemone—
Thy flower—forevermore! 

(Emily Dickinson)

Pink ranunculus

Yesterday afternoon I had a little floral photoshoot in my back garden. The light was good, but the wind was a bit too much for my delicate stems and nice wee vintage glasses and vases. One of my favourites ended up smashed on the ground, and then it cut my finger while I was clearing up the smithereens....

This was not conducive to a good creative mood. But then I had a moment of inspiration and brought out one of my dad's oil paintings to use as a backdrop for the two pink ranunculus that were proving the most photogenic of the flowers. I'm pleased with how this has worked - I was using a very shallow depth of field, so it's not in focus, but the colours and the loose brush strokes give the images a painterly quality that I like. 

Irving Penn is one of my favourite flower photographers. I'm going to guess that he didn't spend much time shooting in his garden, with his backdrop on his knee, his flowers clutched in one hand and his camera in the other. Missed a trick there.