The Pull of Light

| drawandshoot


It’s difficult to resist going out on a bright Autumn day when so many of these are coloured grey.

There are other things that need doing.

I try to push away the urge pick up my camera but the light becomes important. Important, because it moves so rapidly through the sky. The light is in a race with the dark hours and these days the dark is winning.

But outside there is the sound of crisp leaves shuffling in the breezes. The gentle coo of the mourning doves. Cool air and frosted grasses. And did I mention sunlight?

Who could resist?

© Karen McRae, 2012

Lily Pad Land

| drawandshoot

This is an in-camera double exposure (digital) I had made this past summer in the middle of drought. The water was so low the lily pads were wilting on dry land. I just came across this image when I was looking for a reference for something I am painting and I was struck by the environmental extremes that we all seem to be experiencing.
(Click on the image for a larger view)

© Karen McRae, 2012

Tangled

| drawandshoot


Tangled limbs dancing on the gently moving water.

This is very much what it actually looked like through the lens.
The colours are from yesterdays restless clouds and light, the silty bottom of the creek, and the branches and leaves reflected and simmering under the surface. The only post-processing I have done is a bit of cropping and slight level adjustments. And perhaps turning some things on their heads…

Today the leaves are mostly stripped bare and the trees are being thoroughly dampened.


© Karen McRae, 2012

A Slipping-by Surface

| drawandshoot



There is a path of crepe paper leaves that brings you here to this creek. The air is filled with the sound of small waterfalls and the earthy smell of an autumn afternoon.

As I am watching the water ripple by, several things cross my mind.

I am reminded of a recurring childhood dream where images slide by at a slowed-down-film-strip pace, a pace that seems to match this water.

Slow undercurrents and a slipping-by surface.

As I make small adjustments in the lens the surface shifts in and out of focus. I think of a very old book on my shelf that is covered in time-worn marbled paper, marbled somewhat like the reflections the trees are drawing on the water.

Where you focus changes everything.

I pass by a small child, he has just crossed the creek by way of a big log and he warns me of the dangers. He is bright-eyed and grinning broadly.

It is always good to meet a kindred spirit.

 

© Karen McRae, 2012

Surface, Submerge

| drawandshoot


Often, when I set out with an idea in mind, it becomes something else entirely.
I was thinking about the rich colours and light of autumn, and yesterday was one of those perfect autumn days.

But this is what I came away with.
The convoluted reflections of the trees.

And beneath those reflections, the autumn leaves, submerged and already fading into murkiness.

Moments of bare limbs and fallen leaves melding together in rippling shadows.
A fleeting reconnection.

© Karen McRae, 2012