Morning Light | Afternoon Shade

These flowers in my yard are so pretty - I had to take a picture of them.  One was taken in the morning light and the other in the afternoon shade.  What a difference in color and feeling of the photo!

The photo on the left is the morning shot with all the sunlight.  The flowers are warm in color.  The ones on the right are cooler - more magenta and less yellow.  For me, I prefer the ones on the right.  They seem more saturated in color as well.

After the Rain

Rain is always a welcome treat in Southern California, and this afternoon we had a lovely cloudburst followed by beautiful white puffy clouds.  I couldn't resist going out to drive in the rain and visit some of my favorite walking paths where the recent rains have created lush, green vistas.  At Bommer Canyon we saw a full rainbow arc, and shot this picture of it.

Cape Light - Photos by Joel Meyerowitz

In looking through the Cape Light photos by Joel Meyerowitz, I keep returning to this one again and again, and I have to wonder why.  What is it that makes me want to keep looking?

At first glance it could be mistaken for a badly conceived vacation photo - somewhat drab little cottages with unkempt lawns - neat and tidy enough, but with a telephone pole (at a tilt no less) going right up through the middle of the composition, next to the telephone booth in the front yard. Yet there is a calmness and a serenity in the photo - in the beautiful, warm light of sunrise, the stillness of the daybreak, and the sparseness of the landscape. The sign by the roadside is a uniquely American convention, and the Volkswagon beetle in the driveway is the cherry on top; it is a perfect symbol for utility and the everyman - owned by the kind of person who might stay at plain little cottages such as these. There are no rigid rules of formality here. This is what Meyerowitz has captured in his photo - he has perfectly encapsulated the simplicity, charm, functionality, warmth and Americana of this place.

For me, there is also a healthy dose of nostalgia. Although these cottages are located in Cape Cod, Massachusetts, they could easily pass for the little cottages my family stayed at on the coast of Oregon during my childhood vacations. These are the ubiquitous little cabins you used to find up and down both coasts in vacation towns. 

Looking at the cottages in this picture I feel a deep sense of longing for their coziness and the carefree ease of being there in the summer.  I can picture the insides of these cottages: they probably have worn wooden floors - or perhaps linoleum which is worn thin where you would stand in front of the kitchen sink to wash the dishes by hand. They probably have a slightly musty smell from walls and curtains too long in the humidity of the ocean breeze. 

As a child we might have turned up our noses when we first arrived, just a little, at the shabbiness of the interior, at the worn sofa and the slightly threadbare white chenille bed covers.  But within two days we were piling on "our" sofa and "our" beds - now familiar and welcoming.  We could run up from the beach and into the cottage with our sand-covered feet and it would be okay - the functionality of the cottage meant our feet wouldn't do any damage. And that beach was just across the road.

These are the kinds of things I think of when I see Meyerowitz's photo, and why I can't stop looking at it.