#1-2020-04-08
#2-2020-04-08
#3-2020-04-08
#4-2020-04-08
#5-2020-04-08
#6-2020-04-08
Cottonwood Bark
Endnotes
- On the afternoon of 8 Apr 2020 I suddenly found myself with a free hour between appointments. Fortunately, I can see my patients via telehealth during this COVID-19 isolation. Because I had been observing some interesting piles of stuff around the neighborhood, I grabbed my camera and went out.
- With profound apologies to Jackson Pollack, whose artistry greatly humbles me, I titled the photos in this post with numbers and dates. I did not want to insult your intelligence with the obviousness of the subject matter. As I have noted elsewhere, words can sometimes serve as stepping stools to to enjoying visual art, but they can ultimately sidetrack the final consumption.
- I simply put the scenes out there for you to experience. Admittedly, I like the images a lot. I don’t take credit for the scenes themselves, although I am fully accountable, or culpable, for discovering them and presenting them to you.
- Photography is a two-edged sword. Just as photos can occasionally reveal beautiful details overlooked in the picture taking, they can also reveal meh moments or disgusting ones. One of my shots of #4 was a close-up: Let’s just say the picture was of only some dirty stones.
- I did not assign the cottonwood bark a number because cottonwood bark has a ruggedly unique look, and many of you may not recognize that specific tree. The arteries and veins are cords in motion.
- I have scores of memories of cottonwood trees. For one, I remember glorious early June days in Layton, Utah during the 1950’s. Layton was rural then, and we children had the run of all the farm roads. The cottonwood seeds would blow like snow as we rode our bicycles against the backdrop of the snow capped mountains and blue sky.
- Another memory is of two cottonwood trees by the visitor center of Capitol Reef National Park. When I first saw them in 1973, they were over a hundred years old. A few minutes ago, I talked by phone with Ranger Eric at the park. He confirmed the trees are still there and now over 150 years old. I must visit and photograph them later this year.
Ah, the grays and browns of early Spring! Nicely done, Michael. Liked the part about riding bicycles in the cottonwood snow…
Thank you for including the grays. I was especially anxious about including the picture of the gray clay and gravel with the railroad tie. I have to believe that most people would find it most unattractive. I acknowledge my differentness by liking the photo of the dirt and the wood grain resting together. Perhaps, if I had a framed print of it, I would hang it in my garage. I could see it in the office of a civil engineer.
I am grateful for you favorable comment about the dirt and wood together. The scene appealed to me, but I hesitated about a picture of dirt and and a discarded railroad tie. I like your insight that art is not necessarily intended for elegant living spaces. That opens up a new world for me in photography!
I love the sound of wind blowing through cottonwood trees.
Thank you for all the kind comments to my posts. I never noticed the special quality of wind through cottonwood trees; I will start looking for it. Best regards!