Apparently I don't look it, but I'm shy. And big parties can make me especially nervous. So when we were
invited to a barbeque where I'd only know two people, I figured
having a prop might be a good idea. When people noticed I was
hauling (OK, it's not THAT big, but definitely more noticeable than
any P & S or iPhone) my Canon 60D, they'd say, "Oh, you've
got your camera." And with a smile I'd reply, "Yes I do."
Then I'd quickly put it up to my eye and shoot something, anything, and thus I would seem both friendly and occupied. A winning combination. Much
better than the Scotch neat I used to carry years ago to get me through a house-full of relative strangers (or strange relatives--but that's a whole different story). And, in my experience, one's hosts appreciate
the attention one is paying to their gardening efforts far more than they
would the chattering of a formerly quiet but now alarmingly outgoing guest.
However, it turns out there are more
advantages than just giving a tongue-tied person something socially
acceptable to do. As I've said too many times here before, I'm lousy
at landscapes. Yet it appears that when I'm driven to take a
wider view of an unfamiliar place, and when that wider view is as
beautiful as the one in this particular garden, I'm not as bad as
I'd thought.
This is one of those places where you
drive several miles along a gently winding road so thickly
lined with tall trees that you can't see the properties that might or
might not lie just behind them. There are glimpses of the mountains
further away, but that's about it. However, once you take the turn
off the road and drive the long gravel path to the house, the sky
opens up, and you're somewhere else entirely. A beautiful somewhere
else.
And while there is a difference between
shooting your own flower beds (over and over again) and shooting in an
unfamiliar space, there is a special joy in photographing a private garden. Most public grounds have views so consciously created and so identified with the place itself that
they're practically labeled "photograph this from here, no, two
inches to your right." This is known as "the postcard
shot" for its guaranteed, generic beauty at almost any time of
year. Nice, but one feels compelled rather than inspired to take the
shot.
Private gardens have views too, but usually they've been designed by the people who live there every day, who walk the grounds at all hours, and have no board of directors to please. There is no one, special place to stand, so the views are, in a sense, created each time by the viewer.
I am still a macro photographer at heart, and, even with my walk-around lens, flowers and
butterflies on a lovely summer's day are almost impossible to overlook. And, of course, there's the added bonus that a crouching person who's holding her breath as well as a heavy camera is best left alone.
Other people's gardens can inspire the
photographer as well as the gardener. And though I'm not at my best
photographing people, my lovely friend, Louise, seemed so much a part
of the experience of this beautiful view, that I had no trouble
taking the shot.
