Rhododendrons seemed to have moved into my neighborhood like a swarm of Olympic athletes each eager to show off their blooming colors: be it magenta, lilac, white with pink edges or the deepest shade of purple.
Like a clueless observer I stand with my mouth agape, easily swayed between the exuberance of indigo and the innocence of pure white. All of a sudden walking down the street turns into a task of picking a favorite child – however do I choose?
The beauty of a blooming flower is in its impermanence. We don’t have time to get used to its colors and have our eyes slide over it out of sheer familiarity.
The short time frame when our neighborhoods come alive with color reminds us of the fragility and finite nature of everything around us – be it a flower or own lives.
Similarly when my gaze falls upon a beautiful bunch of blooming catnip or snapdragons, my whole being aches to spend time with these magnificent living beings, just to acknowledge their existence and affirm their desire to bloom, however short-lived it may be.
After all, if no one sees a blooming rose bush, has it really even bloomed?
To honor nature in one of its finest displays of beauty I wanted to photograph someone amidst the blossoms.
I am lucky enough to be friends with the person perfect for the task. I texted Sarah, a dear friend who is a kindred spirit in many ways. She is a talented artist, a nature lover and someone who knows of the the importance and significance of finding ways to connect with the living world around us.
We met on an ordinary Wednesday evening that quickly became extraordinary. Moving from one congregation of blooms to another, we laughed, smelled the flowers that surrounded us and marveled at the performance Mother Earth was putting on us for us and those around us paying attention.
I love the images we captured that evening. I love that I have portraits of my beautiful friend amidst the blooms, as I think of her much like an exquisite flower that deserves to be seen.
I love that another Spring is etched in both my memory and on the sensor of my digital camera, translating light particles into a palette of flowers splattered with color, forever blooming in my photographs.