These daffodils popped up in the far corner of a fenced-in yard a few blocks south of New Philadelphia High School.
I was driving past on my way to a meeting with the athletic director about the upcoming soccer season. I would’ve been late to the meeting if I had stopped just then, but I also let my sheepishness get the better of me. A student, or a carful of students on their way to school, might have shouted me down; a passerby might have seen, not a photographer, but a creeper, a tourist, a stranger doing God knew what.
I wrote about this before, this feeling like my desire to play artist would be viewed as unnatural and ought to be discouraged.
I forced myself to stop after the meeting. I stood outside my car a moment, then got back inside the car until an Impala carrying two women passed by.
As soon as the Impala turned the corner, I got out of my car again, hurried over to the fence, crouched low and held up my camera.
I took three exposures while I crouched next to the fence. The one you see above wears a color filter. I tried playing with depth as well. The image above focuses on the flowers, leaving the wire mesh of the fence blurred in the foreground. And the filter’s bluish tint deepens the green of the flowers’ blades somewhat and brightens the yellows of each daffodil flower, forcing the contrast between the annuals and the Rich brown tones of the fence’s rusted wiring and the dried leaves still clinging to the vine in the foreground.
I hope the color pops, just as I hoped, with this one relatively low-key act of boldness, to pop this bubble of doubt I’ve been living in lately.