Parnell Prairie Preserve

I went out in my car around 4:00 PM.  I wanted to try to walk to the Arcola Railroad bridge from the Wisconsin side to photograph it.  No luck; there were no-parking signs along the road and the railroad right-of-way was posted with no-trespassing signs.  I could see the bridge through the bare trees.  It looked very high and impressive.  The branches were too thick for photography so I never got a photo of the bridge.

Parnell Prairie Preserve

I turned to Plan B.  I didn’t actually have a Plan B, so I extemporized.  The Parnell Prairie Preserve is just a few miles from where I was.  I’ve driven past the preserve many times and drove into the parking lot once but never stopped.  It didn’t look very impressive from the road.  So I went to the Preserve and discovered a sweet spot.  Nice trails.  Very pleasant.

There was an old, decaying very large tree trunk sawed into pieces near the road.  It looked like it had been there, decaying and moldering into the earth, for a long time.  All the things that grow on or around a decomposing tree stump provide lots of subjects for photography:  vines, lichen, moss, fungi, leaves, stems, thorns.  Much texture and color.  The color isn’t as showy as in wildflower season but it’s there if you look closely.  Tiny, bright red things on stalks held over green moss.  I don’t know what they were, but the red objects shone out in spite of their tininess.  Purple and red vines.  Old, decaying wood of a deep orange.

Most of the preserve is a rolling meadow.  Last year’s meadow grasses are still standing and are a fine golden, yellow-orange color.

The red stems of sumac with buds just waiting for some sun and warm weather.  A cluster of berries ranging in color from bright red to golden brown.  The silhouettes of bare trees and pine trees on a hilltop.

 

 

Wrinkles, Discolorations, Blemishes

I enjoy photographing botanical subjects that are past their prime.  Flowers, leaves, other things that are starting to show their age; wrinkles, discolorations, blemishes; such things can add character to beauty.  Perhaps I have this penchant because I am (this is hard to admit) beyond my prime and have wrinkles and age spots aplenty.  At this time of the year in my neck of the woods, everything outside is past its prime. Everything is dead.*   This morning I bought primroses at the grocery store.  Some of the flowers are starting to wilt.  I thought the wilt spots add interesting new color and texture to the already beautiful flowers.

Wilting Primrose
Wilting Primrose

* A paraphrase of Charles Dickens from David Copperfield:

I looked at her earnestly.

‘When you came away from home at the end of the vacation,’ said Mrs. Creakle, after a pause, ‘were they all well?’ After another pause, ‘Was your mama well?’

I trembled without distinctly knowing why, and still looked at her earnestly, making no attempt to answer.

‘Because,’ said she, ‘I grieve to tell you that I hear this morning your mama is very ill.’

A mist rose between Mrs. Creakle and me, and her figure seemed to move in it for an instant. Then I felt the burning tears run down my face, and it was steady again.

‘She is very dangerously ill,’ she added.

I knew all now.

‘She is dead.’