I journeyed through my childhood and youth as an eager believer, resolute in my conviction that the sort of magic I encountered in any number of obscure juvenile fantasy novels would manifest in my ordinary life one day.
Now, I wouldn’t say that a glimmering portal to another realm awaited me on Mt. Pollux one iridescent October morning – but three weeks ago, I came as close to real-life enchantment as a decidedly, disappointingly non-magical girl could hope.
Guess what the East Coast decided to do this weekend? Even though spring was just starting–grass growing, tiny flowers opening, skies staying bright long into the evening–a snowy Sunday just had to sneak in and send us all back into February.
Snow may make me cross at New England’s odd ways, but at the very least, it does make for some lovely photographs. I braved the cold to take a little walk yesterday morning, and managed to capture our local plants’ reactions to this wintry blast from the past!
It’s no secret that I’m in love with macro photography: there’s nothing I love more than trying to transform the quiet details of quotidian landscapes into strange, alien worlds. In warmer months, I attempt to document the secret histories of plants and trees, and my lens turns towards the snow itself in the winter.
Photographing snow and ice up close creates miniature landscapes like no other–great icy mountains and chasms no bigger than a pencil, endless Arctic landscapes glowing blue that run the width of a backyard…