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photo essay: summer is

Photo essay: summer is

Summer has arrived, and with it the heat and humidity have made me cranky and begging for autumn. Summer is for children, I think. That is, until I take camera into hand and view the beauty and joy of this season through a lens.

Summer comes with the start of something new, seeds planted in the spring and waiting for the heat and rain of this season to bring them to life. Summer starts with the end of another season, defeat sealed in a hazy heat of handshakes.

Summer is ominous storms that bring soaking rains, feeding the flowers and giving fresh color and life to the earth, leaving bright sunshine ten minutes after the storm has begun.

Summer is the smiles on the faces of children, looking forward to seemingly endless days of playing, catching , kicking, jumping. Summer is submerging yourself in the freedom of the days and not wanting to come up for air.

Summer is hiding from the bugs, and maybe even tasting a few of them.

It's decadent evening barbecues, the night ending by taking out the telescope and scanning the amazing summer night sky.

Summer is long drives to upstate New York, where the lake cools us off as we swing through the days.

Summer is here and despite the heat, there are so many things about it to savor.

Comments

Go Michele.

You really need to put on a seminar about photo composition. I particularly love the picture "catching" - seeing the anticipation on the girl's face as whe awaits the object.

Thank you for a beautiful piece.

(P.S. I wish my digital camera would take pictures when I hit the shutter button, instead of a second-or-two later)

very nice.

Great pictures and summer essay.

I enjoyed that :) I always enjoy your photo-spiced posts. Very well done, Michele!

what happened to the Tits Across America shots?

Ooooooh... I love that swing picture! I can see a blog skin out of that - it's so perfect!

that was beautiful. and very entertaining :)

I think that I shall never see
A thing as lovely as a tree.
But as you see the trees have gone
They went this morning with the dawn.
A logging firm from out of town
Came and chopped the trees all down.
But I will trick those dirty skunks
And write a brand new poem called 'Trunks'.
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