Tag Archives: memory

“April Revenant”

“April Revenant”

“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

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“Final Traces?”

“Final Traces?”

“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

“Final Traces”

“Final Traces”

“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

 

Iceland Journal – “Face to Face with the Glacier” – Svínafelsjökull, South Iceland

“Face to Face with the Glacier” - Svínafelsjökull, South I

“Ice, deep, blue and tortured ice;
The vault of time, and memory, long past.”
– Ed Lehming

Words can barely describe the feeling of standing side by side with a glacier. Ice, formed tens of thousand of years ago. Ice, that has travelled for kilometers from high mountain peaks to slowly melt into oblivion, in a muddy glacial pool.

The photo hardly does it justice; layers of ice and dust, reminders of Iceland’s recent and distant volcanic past, laid out before me to ponder, close enough to touch. There are too many shades of blue to name, and light plays from and through the ancient mass before me.

Glaciers cover almost ten percent of Iceland’s surface, all melting at an accelerated pace in recent years. And now, I stand and witness their slow decay in the sound of dripping water and splashes far below the lead face.

I’m so glad I made this journey, at this time. I fear much of this wonder will soon be gone; though it’s hard to imagine that this much ice will someday by be nothing more than a muddy brown pond and a memory of what once was.

This, is Svínafelsjökull, close up and personal, this is Iceland’s past and future, a visual history of the land of Fire and Ice.

Nikon D800
Tamron SP 70-200mm f/2.8 Di VC USD @ 200mm
1/160 sec, f/6.3, ISO 200

For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com

“Lily of the Valley – Convallaria majalis”

“Lily of the Valley - Convallaria majalis”

“I miss your fragrance, sometimes I miss it this much that I can clearly smell you in the air.” 
― Qaisar Iqbal Janjua

Just in time for the last day of May. This has been a very delayed year for many of our spring flowers, here in Ontario. These just started blooming last week and I was happy to see a few remained for me to photograph.

The fragrance of lily of the valley is among my favourite scents and the memory of that smell brings back so many special times for me: gardening as a child, with my grandmother and father, my wedding day (we had lilacs and lily of the valley from our home and my wife’s family home as our flower arrangements and in the bouquet), as well as the birth of our first child, in May, 26 years ago. Lily of the valley and its wonderful sweetness was part of all those moments. I do miss it, when it’s not blooming, but the memory remains.

Nikon D800
Tamron SP AF 90mm f/2.8 Di Macro 1:1 (272ENII)@90mmm
3.0sec, f/29.0, ISO 100 

For more images like this, please visit my website (images are available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com

 

“Honeysuckle”

“Honeysuckle”

“I drag myself over to the honeysuckle bush and pluck a flower. I gently pull the stamen through the blossom and set the drop of nectar on my tongue. The sweetness spreads through my mouth, down my throat, warming my veins with memories of summer.”
– Suzanne Collins

I don’t believe there are many fragrances that compare with honeysuckle on a warm summer evening. As I walked the narrow roadways and access points at Sauble Beach this past weekend, the fragrance hung on the air, sweet and full of memories, as the quote so aptly describes.

There are entire fences, heavy with honeysuckle vines. I could stand there for hours drinking in the fragrance and marvelling at the complex flowers, as hummingbirds and bees feast close by. Of course, I could not resist the temptation to photograph them for future enjoyment, just without the fragrance, which will remain a memory to be savoured.

Nikon D800
Tamron SP AF 90mm f/2.8 Di Macro 1:1 (272ENII)@90mm
1/50 sec, f/10.0, ISO 200

For more images like this, please visit my Facebook page:
https://www.facebook.com/EdLehming
or my website (some images available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com

“Spring Peony – Dr. Alex Fleming”

“Spring Peony - Dr. Alex Fleming”

“When nothing else subsists from the past, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered…the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls…bearing resiliently, on tiny and almost impalpable drops of their essence, the immense edifice of memory”
― Marcel Proust

Peony, for me the queen of fragrance and memory.

As I stepped outside today, following a brief rain shower, the perfume of this peony struck my senses, causing me to smile as I recalled fond memories of the glorious gardens of so many dear to me, many no longer with us. It stopped me in my tracks, as I surveyed the garden, seeking the source. Yesterday, the peonies were just buds, filled with promise, but not ready to open. My eyes found the source, a single blossom, dew covered, and shining in the sun, the most intense pink petals fully and unexpectedly opened to the sun.

The memories are wonderful and intense. I recall gardening with my adopted grandmother, Margarete, as she tended a large bed of pink and white peonies, my maternal grandmother, Lola, also an avid gardener, with her own collection, handed down from her mother and cherished. Finally, my mother-in-law, Lois, who moved to a smaller residence a few years ago, leaving me her collection of peonies, not to be left behind. They filled every spare space in my gardens and I would have it no other way. They too have a history, having come from her mother and grandmother. Such seems to be the way of the peony. I’m sure each plant has fragrance and memory deeply intertwined.

As I sit and write this, the sweet aroma still in my mind, I can see each of them, out in their gardens, a smile of recollection on their faces as they reflect on their own memories and their cherished peonies.

Nikon D800
Tamron SP AF 90mm f/2.8 Di Macro 1:1 (272ENII)@90mm
2.0 sec, f/32.0 ISO 100

High Resolution image on 500px

for more images like this, please visit my Facebook page:
https://www.facebook.com/EdLehming
or my website (some images available for purchase)
http://www.edlehming.com