While the interior of the little “Painted Church” is lavishly colorful, the exterior is a simple white structure. I could feel the history surrounding the church through it’s old, but well maintained, grave yard and gardens. It is a beautiful and peaceful site on the gentle sloping sides of Moana Loa.
A splash of white and pink,
Against a sea of red, blue and green,
Is a pleasure to be seen!
Clusters of orchids were everywhere. Tourists and other photographers were lined up to get that “perfect” orchid image. I stepped back and walked away when I saw this lone flower standing out all by itself. Behind it several feet, were other blooms and foliage of various colors. I walked around the flower to get an interesting combination of color as a background. I used a wide aperture to separate the flower and blur the background. It looked great on my camera display. I was happy!
But when I got home and viewed the image on a large monitor, I was disappointed. By using a wide aperture and blurring the background, the flower itself was not as sharp as I would like. I could not give up on the image and used a little Topaz Impression to add an artistic perspective.
This tree has an unseen story to tell. The photographer did not step back to include the rest of the story. On the tree’s left is the Little Blue Church. On its right is an ancient Hawaiian heiau.
Here I stand, catching the evening’s last light,
Spreading it gently to the souls of the present on my left,
And to the ancient spirits of the past on my right
Lesson Learned: I need to take my time to contemplate what I am seeing and feeling, then raise my camera to record the story. I should have used a wide-angle perspective to include the church and the heiau. Always learning …
Just to the north of the “Little Blue Church” is the remnant of an ancient Hawaiian heiau (temple). I came to see the church, but my interest quickly turned to the adjacent heiau. How long ago did the ancient peoples worship on this ground? Was it in use when Cook first landed on the island just a few miles south of here? What do these protruding wood branches and line represent? So many questions …
This little church was built in 1888 next to an ancient Hawaiian heiou. It is currently a Catholic mission and holding Sunday services.
When I drove past the church, it was late afternoon. The front of the church was in deep shadows. The sun glare dominated the background as it reflected off the ocean. It was a great opportunity for a B&W photograph.
Silent and serene the little church stood
against the brilliant glow from above.
What history does it have to tell?
You can’t get any further south in the United States than this. The southern tip of the big island of Hawai’i is the most southern point of our country. I guess you can consider it the deep, deep South.
This image is the second of a series of Black and White photographs that I will post from my recent trip to the Big Island. In each of these images, I purposefully took my time to try to catch a specific moment and/or composition. Each one had a specific intent when I began the process of recording what my eyes were seeing or what my mind was feeling.
I stood and watched this boy for several moments before I put my camera to my eye. I could have just stood and watched much longer as he patiently cast out and reeled in his line, repeating the process over and over. Each time he cast out, I was hoping that a fish would take the bait. What a a glorious way to spend a late afternoon!
Over the years, I have visited the Hawaiian Tropical Gardens on the big island of Hawaii four times. Located near Hilo, it gets around 160 inches of rain a year. It is a tropical RAIN forest. Every visit has been on a brilliantly bright day, no clouds and no rain. This visit I was hoping for at least a cloud cover to help darken the gardens like it typically is … no such luck!
Onomea Falls is one of the special beautiful places in the garden that I enjoy most. My intent was to create an image of the falls in a dark setting as it typically is in. It was dark, but bright hot spots from open spots the canopy were located all around the area. I was not going to leave disappointed again. I took my time, worked my way around the area, played with filters and exposures and left with something I could work with. Back at home I combined images to reduce the hot spots and keep the shadow details. I converted to B&W (as was my intent when I took the images) and did a little selective dodging and burning.
The result to me was well worth the extra time!
In my last post, I described the path up to the top of our Japanese-style garden. This is the “Chief” that I mentioned at the the first turn of the upward path. The brilliant gold of this small pine stops me in my tracks. It is absolutely beautiful against the cold winter snow. It is a jewel in this area of the garden.
Bright and light it captures me.
Gold shines apart from the surrounding land,
Everything else is a background blur.
I have learned so many new things as we have been designing and implementing a Japanese-style garden here in Selah, Washington. The biggest thing that I have learned is how little I know and how much I need to learn. Studying and learning is a big part of the enjoyment that I am receiving from this project. Patience is a key element that I am balancing.
Walking through a Japanese garden is an adventure in discovery. To get to the point where this image is taken, I take a meandering stroll. I enter the garden from our driveway along a gentle bending path and come to a fork. I choose to walk up a gentle slope. The path curves upward to a wide level space where I pause to closely observe a brilliant yellow “Chief Joseph” limber pine. I turn around and see our pond in the distance. I continue to walk up the path to another wide area at the top of a stream. Again I pause to look over the now dry stream bed and over the valley below. After several moment, I cross a large basalt rock bridge over the stream. I turn to my right and see this vignette of the Kotoji and Yukimi lanterns. One leg of the Kotoji is anchored in the stream. The Yukimi is placed on a rock extending over the edge of the pond. On a bright day (without ice or snow covering the pond), I can see the reflection of the Yukimi on the pond. I feel like it acts like a guardian for the koi in the pond.
After I take the photograph, I step back upon the stone bridge. Looking down on the stream, I consider the options that are available to landscape around the stream to create a natural setting. Ideas flow through my mind. Nothing quite gels at the moment. There is no hurry to come up with a design. A landscape is developed over a period of years. It is never completed. Now is the time to have patience and just enjoy what is in front of me.
As we developed the design for our Japanese Garden, winter color was an essential element. Throughout the garden, we added several conifers that turn to a brilliant yellow to contrast against the greens of other shrubs and trees. We also selected deciduous Japanese maples and other trees that have color in their winter bark. The soft light browns of key rocks add to the color contrast. However, these were gifts, not necessarily part of our planned design. We just got lucky here.