From a practical point of view photography is one of those tricky arts that benefit from training, experience and a generous portion of luck. If you are a landscape photographer or an architectural photographer the element of luck is vastly reduced, but for a wildlife photographer it may be the most important of the three elements. Without luck, you simply miss out on a lot.
From a technical point of view, there are three other elements to every photo: shutter speed, aperture and light. There may be some disagreement about this, but I might also include the camera itself as a fourth element. There are some things that expensive cameras can do that inexpensive cameras and cell phones simply can’t.
The experienced photographer knows that bright, cloudy days are ideal for flower photography. Bright, sunny days with a clear blue sky are actually the worst for this sort of picture taking because there are too many shadows and the differences between light and shade are too great, leading to images that look harsh and “cold.” Instead, you want one of those days that has complete cloud cover, but you can just barely make out the position of the sun as a slightly lighter spot of gray in the light gray sky.
Then luck enters into the fray. When the conditions are perfect, are you able to consider photography as an option? If you are shopping for food, at work, or getting your oil changed, the answer will be a resounding “no.” If, however, you happen to be home, or already on a photography excursion, then the answer is a glorious and emphatic, “Yes!” Such was the case last Wednesday when things just lined up perfectly.
I decided that I’d had enough of birds for a while, and I made the choice of arming my camera with my macro lens and leaving the large telephoto in my office. My goal was to photograph every single species of flower that was in bloom in my yard on that particular morning; sort of an almanac entry for the state of the wildflowers on that particular day. There were many to choose from, but I went straight for my all-time personal favorite, the maiden pink (Dianthus deltoides).
An introduced “alien” species, the maiden pink is not an invasive species. It likes areas of short grass and seems to thrive at the edges of human influence. Fields (which are man made here in the Northeast) and roadsides are listed as places to look for this flower, but I am lucky enough to have a patch of these flowers growing right in my lawn. The flowers spring up in different places from one year to the next because of the random dispersal of seeds, but I can always find a few, and this year there have been a lot.
The deepest and brightest pink imaginable, the maiden pink is the flower world’s equivalent of a male indigo bunting, or a male Baltimore oriole. The color is intoxicating to behold and when the background is a bright, unfocused green, the effect is enhanced even further. This is why you need a macro lens on an expensive camera. You need to lay down on the ground, open the aperture all the way and let the soft light come flooding into the camera.
There were many other species in bloom on that morning, but I wanted to include my mother’s favorite among them, the ragged robin (Lychnis flos-cuculi). Also known as cuckooflower, this is another non-invasive alien species that thrives in fields and meadows, but unlike the maiden pink it benefits from no mowing. My meadow at the bottom of the field is currently awash with patches of ragged robin interspersed with patches of buttercups (Ranunculus spp.) and the effect is one that brings to mind a painting by Monet. Up close, the flowers are gorgeous in detail, especially the ragged robins that look like exquisite pink snowflakes.
This odd time in which we live offers us many unexpected advantages when it comes to the natural world. If you are able to take advantage of working from home, or the desire to get away from TVs and electronic devices that seem to offer up little other than bad news, then I would encourage you to get outside and walk around. The wildflowers of June are in full bloom right now, and they are wondrous to see.
Bill Danielson has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 23 years. He has worked for the National Park Service, the US Forest Service and the Massachusetts State Parks and currently teaches high school biology and physics. Visit www.speakingofnature.com for more information, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.