“Hidden Jungle Falls” – Garfield Conservatory, image 26
February 27th, 2025
a daily photo from joshua l. smith
Not every image needs to be award winning; I enjoy looking for abstract compositions, and I’ve photographed this type of plant quite a few times and rarely gotten an image that I liked. But I really like this image – award winning to me.
I have some friends who will bring along spray bottles to add water drops to plants to make the image pop, but for this flower, the staff at the conservatory did the work for me!
Sometimes a photo is already lined up for you, like this blossom. I did have to stand on my tiptoes to capture the image with the green leaf behind the red blossom, and then take the photo several times in order to get the pistil in focus.
I walked right past this plant while complaining that I hadn’t taken enough photos of blossoms. Sarah kindly pointed out that the purple blossoms were almost radiant; I’d walked right past the plant because most of the blossoms were wilted and past their prime. The yellow stamen are almost creepy.
I love seeing other people’s photos, and recently I saw a photo of a single cactus blossom from a photographer that was perfect and beautiful. I don’t like my image quite as much as theirs, but this cute blossom was absolutely perfect for the photograph.
The tiny blossoms on this cactus were the perfect cluster of beauty for my macro lens. The sad thing about macro photos is that I have no clue what the remainder of the plant looks like now.
I love visiting an indoor garden like Chicago’s conservatories in the winter. The garden’s colors and vibrance are refreshing against the backdrop of the grey and browns of our winters.
I don’t ever shy away from editing an image from cropping to color correction to contrast; I almost never show an image before editing.
But every once in a while a scene presents itself that needs no editing, like this one. I did crop this, my lens simply didn’t have the reach for the crop that I wanted; and of course, I changed it to black & white. Some won’t like this image, even more will find an aspect to critique; and that’s fine, after all art is subjective.
I love converting photos of ferns to monochrome images; they’re almost monochromatic already, simply shades of green. However, in their full color, you can enjoy the yellow and red shades within the greens, as well as the brown details in the fibers and stems. For this curly image, I really enjoyed the peach-fuzz underneath the plant that you wouldn’t normally see.
One of the beauties of nature is the joy of looking closer. Not only does this fern remind me of nature’s zipper, the closer that you look at the plant, the more you can see and learn; the strands on the branch, the spots and texture on the fronds as well as the serration on the edges of the branches.
Growing up, my Mom always had Christmas cactus, and if I remember the original plant may have come from her brother had quite the green thumb. I definitely remember playing football in the house with my brother and knocking the plant over and the blossoms falling off and KNOWING that we were in so much trouble.
But when I told my parents that Sarah and I were moving in together, my Mom gave Sarah a cutting of the Christmas cactus as a “home warming gift”.
There is not much to say about this image; I love its simple composition.
I guess I’ve never really paid attention to the spines on various cactus plants, but I have definitely never noticed a cactus’s spines that are quite as curvy as this cactus’s are! I love the almost “barrier” like feel to the repeating leaves, if that’s what you would call them, and the repeating pattern makes me wonder if there’s a mathematical system behind their arrangement.
Photographing ferns is a bit challenging; almost like a monochrome image. There isn’t a flower for color or the contrast of bark and leaves; but while a fern may lack in color and contrast, it excels at texture and shape. I love the weave and repetition of these leaves!
In today’s language, this house belongs to a one-percent-er, but I have a hard time feeling jealous of them. After all, if I had millions (or billions), I’d want a home in that exact spot as well.
It probably goes without saying, but you can’t go very far in Seattle without seeing Mount Ranier. When we took the tour of the harbor the sun was setting and illuminating the snow cap.
Sometime we’ll make it back to Alpental in the spring, when there are several veil falls along the mountains… This is the view looking off of the bridge from the parking lot the resort lodge. I would estimate that it’s a 30foot drop and then the most beautiful and hidden stream you can imagine.
The hike down to see Snoqualmie Falls is not for the faint of heart, but you can park at the lower parking lot too. The views down in the canyon are worth the hike though! Just this segment of river would be noteworthy anywhere in the midwest, but in Washington? Just part of a minor river’s path.
Of course the series of waterfalls was my main focus when we stopped at Deception Falls Park, but the view downstream was equally gorgeous. The stream disappeared into the forest and fog and the small island added that extra touch of natural beauty. The stream’s soft green coloring and the damp air added to the mystical feelings that day.
As you fly over the midwest, you can see a patchwork of farmland, roads, and rivers creating right angles and natural curves across the earth. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy this photo so much, it reminds me of the mixture of manmade and natural shapes. The weathered run off from the rivets just adds a little pizazz too.
As the sun faded in and out of the cloud cover throughout our walk around the museum, the colors of the metal would change. The building would reflect the blues, yellows, and greys in the sky and then my Sony would attempt to record those colors as photographs. As I was editing the images, I found so many fun and fantastic color combinations; in this image, you can see the golds, coppers, and silvers as well as the grey, blue, and yellow in the clouds.
I struggled with editing this image. I love the composition, but getting the dark and light not too dark and not too light was a challenge; and I still don’t think I’ve got it right. The light parts just aren’t light enough, and I’ve always struggled with getting monochrome images to have nice lighter parts of the image without having just a texture-less white space. Each photograph teaches us a lesson and often that lesson is “you have a lot more to learn.”
I love the warble of reflected lines in glass, but it brought a smile to my face to discover the same thing happens with metals. The straight lines of the fantastic red-ish hues stand out against the reflected copper lines. I’ve photographed this exact phenomena in many windows but finding it present in steel was simply wonderful.
Unlike most of Frank Ghery’s most famous buildings, the Museum of Pop Culture is not simply shades of shimmering silver. The building has 5 or 6 unique segments in different colors, each segment with his signature curves and waves. Shadows and reflections wandered across each curve and surface, combining to form a lasting smile across my face.
This pigeon has decided that sitting on the top of this metal cloud is a great way to interrupt my photo. At first I was annoyed, but now I enjoy the tiny interruption – almost like it’s Monty Python’s French Taunter in the castle castle threatening “I blow my nose at you!”
Ghery’s architectural works stand out in any skyline. The multiple colors, textures, and waves on the Museum of Pop Culture exhibit a wonderful feast of the eyes. While many of his buildings and designs are similar to the Pritzker Pavilion here in Chicago – mostly uniform in color – the Seattle design has multiple treatments and colors for the sheet metal. As we walked around the exterior, I found dozens and perhaps hundreds of potential abstracts, and after editing, here are a few that stood out as spectacular.
As you walk away from the Seattle Space Needle, you’re treated to the chrome and copper variations in the anodized metal. The waves and variations reminded me of a patchwork quilt that has been tossed on the couch; almost as if the wind had blown the building into that particular spot in Seattle’s downtown.