Figure 1 – True picket fence near “Burying Place,” Salem, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2019.

When it comes to picket fences, we tend to have the classic version in mind. This brings to memory Huckleberry Finn and the whole issue of painting said fence. But before that there were truer to form versions like the one of Figure 1. This is an image that I took in Salem, MA near “Burying Place.” This is the original town cemetery first opened, no deposit no returns, in 1637. For the standard DSLR such an image would present a focus challenge. But to the iPhone ten, with its incredible depth of field, absolutely no problem.

The universe mirrored by reflections on a blue glass dome, Salem, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2019.

Sometimes the universe is imaged in more microscopic settings. In Figure 1 it appears in the reflections of ceiling lights on a blue glass dome. But it is all there to be seen. We are reminded of: a black hole, of gaseous primordial clouds that are the anvil of the gods, of galaxies and super novae, of Ptolemy’s circling domes, and in the end of a spherical warp in the fabric of space-time complete with gravitational lensing.

Figure 1 – September Evening on Essex Street, Salem, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2019.

After a very crazy weeks, David finds, with huge help from his son, that he has successful transported both himself and Hati and Skoll to Salem, Massachusetts. That’s on what we call the North Shore; so expect lot’s more bird and sea photos from me.

I was charmed on my first night there with the scene taken at sunset on Essex Street. Wonderful. how the iPhone handles dusk and night! Technically, I saw the red sky, the clock, and the street lights and just kept shooting until I got a humans in the picture grouping that I liked. Here the scene is one of a couple conversing while the woman, typical of modern times, glances at her cellphone. I should also point out that while inbound say the nineteen seventies it was a big deall to point a camera at someone, now it’s so commonplace that no one really cares.

Figure 1 – PRISMA Stylized photograph after Edward Hopper of Turner’s Seafood in Salem, MA, May 2019. (c) DE Wolf 2019.

I have been continuing my walk down memory lane and revisiting photographs that I took at the beginning of this summer. I took the night image of Figure 1 of Turner’s Seafood in Salem, MA. From the beginning my thought was how much the scene reminded me of the work of Edward Hopper. Here there is a starkness outside and a sense of warmth and inviting within. The safety cones and security tape suggested that the scene is, in fact, not quite finished, as do the two empty vases. I stylized the iPhone image a bit using PRISMA and then used the iPhone processing app to adjust the cast, brightness, and contrast to exactly what I desired.

Figure 1 – White Tulips, Gloucester, MA, May 18, 2019. (c) DE Wolf 2019.

Well, it is Labor Day. And this, of course, is the ceremonial end of summer. It is an exciting time in photography, because it welcomes the coming of September light. In reflection, I am recalling the other end, images that I took around Memorial Day, and I found this photograph taken on May 18 in Gloucester, MA of a beautiful bed of white tulips. They were just past their peak and in inevitable decline. We may look back and we may with anticipation look forward, but in reality we possess only the present moment.

“Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.” ― Marcus Aurelius

Figure 1 – Close-up of cedar bark, Ipswich River National Wildlife Refuge, Topsfield, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2019.

Another pleasure of the northern clime are the cedar woods. I went hiking this past Saturday with a friend at the Audubon Ipswich River Wildlife Refuge. This is a wonderful site and some of its special wonders are the ancient cedar trees. Cedars are delightful for their smell, their rusty red coloration, and their texture. And, of course, they connote cleanliness and freshness because of their use in cedar closets, where they protect clothing from moths. I took several photographs of them with my i Pone XS. First, Figure 1 is a close up of a grand old cedar and really is a texture shot. I love the green mosses which accentuate the red wood. Second, Figure 2 is a pair of cedars that appear to be conversing. They are perhaps ents discussing whether to join the legions of the Middle Earth against the dark forces of Lord Sauron. This latter may be the most appropriate, symbolic of the fight to preserve the natural world and, indeed. the future of life on Earth.

Figure 2 – Cedars in Converstion, Ipswich River Wildlife Refuge. (c) DE Wolf 2019.

Figure 1 – Trumpet vines, Sudbury, MA. July 2019. (c) DE Wolf 2019

The end of each July, I wait for and celebrate the coming of the trumpet vines, Campsis radicans, and their marvelous orange blossoms. I saw them first years ago during a hot summer in Ohio and now have them in my own garden.  Like true trumpeters, these herald the coming of the apex of summer. Those of Figure1, I photographed with my iPhone, intentionally choosing a just after rain moment where they would be covered in water droplets.

Almost simultaneously, I find myself dreading the coming of the Rose of Sharon, which to me, like the prominence of the dog stars, Procyon and Sirius, in the August sky harbinge the end of summer. It is the time when school children itch for one last swim or one last baseball game before they must “creep unwillingly to school.”

For those of us, long past these halcyon days, it is all a matter of associations and memories. And every summer these blossoms never fail to delight.

Figure 1 – Manikin Child. (c) DE Wolf 2019

Manikin children

Do manikins have children? As faceless as their kin.

An alien demeanor, we must hide it from the sun.

Lock them up in cages, where they cannot run.

Sequester them in camps, where there is no rain.

Haughtily, we turn away laughing at their pain. 

Yes, manikins have children. Condemn them to the wind.