Woman in Yellow, Jan. 1, 2011
Copyright © 2011 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved
Showing posts with label colors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label colors. Show all posts
Friday, January 21, 2011
Friday, June 11, 2010
This is Herb-Robert (Geranium robertianum), also called Red Robert or Robert Geranium. No one knows where the Robert part comes from. Robert Natkin, who died on April 20 of this year, was a painter known for his colorful abstractions.
Herb-Robert, May 31, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved
Monday, October 12, 2009
Hanging Branch
The most unusual thing I spotted at the Viewpoint today was a small branch that was hanging, loose, from one of the larger branches of the Sentinel. I've seen loose, hanging branches on the Sentinel before, but not often. The branch may hang there for days, even weeks, before the wind brings it to the ground.
There were three teenage guys hanging out in a van on the neighboring street. I don't remember what they looked like, exactly, or what they were wearing, but I think they had on either jeans or sweats or a combination of the two. I'm kind of remembering black, dark blue or gray. One of them had blond hair. I remember him best because as I was leaving the park, he nearly ran into my tripod, as I was folding it up and putting it back into its case. He had gone on a short excursion over the edge and was scrambling back up onto the cement walk where the edge meets the neighboring street. I was walking down that walk.
Other than this, I saw just two people while I worked with my camera at the Viewpoint: both joggers, both women in the range of about thirty to forty years old. One had on a black top and short red shorts. She had dark hair. The other had on a combination of black and white, I think, but I've forgotten the details. They both looked like they were in good shape.
I took just one photo--one of the bay. It's a cold day today, and the light is bluish, so I wasn't as inspired as yesterday. The landscape is punctuated by reds and yellows, although we're not to the height of autumn yet. I wonder whether the palm trees on the arterial will make it through the winter. I've noticed people are planting them more frequently than in the past. Up until a few years ago, the most exotic tree anyone grew around here was a monkey tree or a Chinese yew. The only place you saw palms was in the conservatory. They remind me of Miami and L.A.
There were three teenage guys hanging out in a van on the neighboring street. I don't remember what they looked like, exactly, or what they were wearing, but I think they had on either jeans or sweats or a combination of the two. I'm kind of remembering black, dark blue or gray. One of them had blond hair. I remember him best because as I was leaving the park, he nearly ran into my tripod, as I was folding it up and putting it back into its case. He had gone on a short excursion over the edge and was scrambling back up onto the cement walk where the edge meets the neighboring street. I was walking down that walk.
Other than this, I saw just two people while I worked with my camera at the Viewpoint: both joggers, both women in the range of about thirty to forty years old. One had on a black top and short red shorts. She had dark hair. The other had on a combination of black and white, I think, but I've forgotten the details. They both looked like they were in good shape.
I took just one photo--one of the bay. It's a cold day today, and the light is bluish, so I wasn't as inspired as yesterday. The landscape is punctuated by reds and yellows, although we're not to the height of autumn yet. I wonder whether the palm trees on the arterial will make it through the winter. I've noticed people are planting them more frequently than in the past. Up until a few years ago, the most exotic tree anyone grew around here was a monkey tree or a Chinese yew. The only place you saw palms was in the conservatory. They remind me of Miami and L.A.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Around the Bay
Around the Bay, Sept. 14, 2009
Copyright © 2009 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Early Afternoon
There are just two people at the moment: a woman with gray hair, wearing glasses, a red blouse and gray slacks; and a man eating take-out under the laurel, wearing a derby hat, a yellowish-brown patterned shirt and dark blue slacks, drinking a beverage from a clear plastic container.
Clematis vines swirl around the bottom of the trunk of the old maple--the "Sentinel." Two red sports cars are parked, back to back, on the adjacent street. I look again, and one of the cars is gone. The street, with it's well-kept gardens, is a riot of color. There's a great variety of rockery plants, from traditional to exotic, along with a sign for a political candidate. The various colors all have a little yellow mixed in--even the blue of the sky--which I guess is because of the sunlight. It's past noon, but the sun is still near its zenith.
On Union Bay, near the shore that's closest to me, there's a motorboat moving westward.
A jogger--a tall, middle-aged guy in a white shirt and dark blue shorts, with red hair and pale skin--runs through the park.
A locust tree grows from below the trail--from a point maybe about 100 feet below the edge. (Is it a Black Locust?)
A woman in black shorts and a dusty fuchsia halter top, who has a brown, medium-sized short-haired dog on a leash, comes jogging by, then quickly disappears into the distance. And then another jogger--a guy in sunglasses and a gray T-shirt and dark blue running shorts--passes by.
I admire the red doors of the neighboring house that's almost black but not quite. (I think of this color as the color of licorice ice cream.) I've always admired this color combo on this house, which has been the same for years.
The guy under the laurel tree gets up to leave. He throws his garbage into the garbage can. He's holding a newspaper.
There are a few sailboats and motor boats on the lake, and now there's one light-green sailboat on the bay. I hear crows cawing as though it were the end of the world.
A seaplane flies over the bay and the stadium. I'm alone now in the park. A white cabbage moth flutters about. I tune out the sound of the cars passing back and forth behind me.
Two guys in black T-shirts swagger by on the other side of the hawthorns, which are just in from the sidewalk. Then a woman in a red shirt, with black hair and a pale green purse comes by.
A spray of scarlet flowers grows on the steep hillside under one of the neighboring houses to the east. Underneath the scarlet flowers are white ones, then more scarlet ones.
I hear a jet flying overhead. I notice cream-colored clematis blossoms along the edge. Each blossom has four petals, with many spikes in between each two petals. These blossoms grow in clusters of 3 x 3, if that makes any sense. There are nine blossoms per large cluster, and then these large clusters are divided into three sections with three blossoms per section. I'm not sure if this is always the case, but this is what I found in my limited sampling.
A light green aphid lands on my left arm. There's a vaguely sweet, aromatic plant smell in the air. I see one pink blackberry blossom and, in places, a few green berries.
Clematis vines swirl around the bottom of the trunk of the old maple--the "Sentinel." Two red sports cars are parked, back to back, on the adjacent street. I look again, and one of the cars is gone. The street, with it's well-kept gardens, is a riot of color. There's a great variety of rockery plants, from traditional to exotic, along with a sign for a political candidate. The various colors all have a little yellow mixed in--even the blue of the sky--which I guess is because of the sunlight. It's past noon, but the sun is still near its zenith.
On Union Bay, near the shore that's closest to me, there's a motorboat moving westward.
A jogger--a tall, middle-aged guy in a white shirt and dark blue shorts, with red hair and pale skin--runs through the park.
A locust tree grows from below the trail--from a point maybe about 100 feet below the edge. (Is it a Black Locust?)
A woman in black shorts and a dusty fuchsia halter top, who has a brown, medium-sized short-haired dog on a leash, comes jogging by, then quickly disappears into the distance. And then another jogger--a guy in sunglasses and a gray T-shirt and dark blue running shorts--passes by.
I admire the red doors of the neighboring house that's almost black but not quite. (I think of this color as the color of licorice ice cream.) I've always admired this color combo on this house, which has been the same for years.
The guy under the laurel tree gets up to leave. He throws his garbage into the garbage can. He's holding a newspaper.
There are a few sailboats and motor boats on the lake, and now there's one light-green sailboat on the bay. I hear crows cawing as though it were the end of the world.
A seaplane flies over the bay and the stadium. I'm alone now in the park. A white cabbage moth flutters about. I tune out the sound of the cars passing back and forth behind me.
Two guys in black T-shirts swagger by on the other side of the hawthorns, which are just in from the sidewalk. Then a woman in a red shirt, with black hair and a pale green purse comes by.
A spray of scarlet flowers grows on the steep hillside under one of the neighboring houses to the east. Underneath the scarlet flowers are white ones, then more scarlet ones.
I hear a jet flying overhead. I notice cream-colored clematis blossoms along the edge. Each blossom has four petals, with many spikes in between each two petals. These blossoms grow in clusters of 3 x 3, if that makes any sense. There are nine blossoms per large cluster, and then these large clusters are divided into three sections with three blossoms per section. I'm not sure if this is always the case, but this is what I found in my limited sampling.
A light green aphid lands on my left arm. There's a vaguely sweet, aromatic plant smell in the air. I see one pink blackberry blossom and, in places, a few green berries.
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