Annalia S.'s photos with the keyword: flower

Climate change is often subtle. Floods, devastating forest fires, catastrophic draughts, extreme weather phenomena, the disappearance of glaciers: all of these are macroscopic effects of the changes our climate is undergoing. They are striking, profoundly unsettling and impossible to miss (although I find that, lately, the human capacity for denying even the obvious seems to be more and more on display …). Still, there are changes that are not so obvious and yet no less disturbing. One of these is the disruption of seasonal patterns on which much of life, especially plant life, depends. This is often harder to pin-point clearly. Farmers have had their crops ruined by insufficient precipitation or unseasonal frosts since time immemorial and we tend not to notice that these effects are becoming, gradually but steadily, more and more common. The plant life (and the animal life that depends on it, ours included) that thrives in the areas were we live is adapted to the local seasonal patterns and depends on them. Nature is resilient and plants and animals can, for the most part, withstand an occasional disruption, but when the changes in pattern become more and more frequent resilience will not be enough. The vegetation we are used to seeing around us will begin to suffer, pests that were kept at bay by cold winters will wreak more and more damage when winter temperatures fail to dip under a certain threshold for several winters in a row, lower levels of precipitation will wipe out plant life that depends on the presence of sufficient moisture. The animals that feed on those plants will go hungry and, if the disruption repeats itself year after year, will either move elsewhere or die out. The entire local ecological balance, that took centuries or millennia to become established, will be thrown out of kilt. Even our supposedly insulated, selfish human world will eventually be changed beyond recognition. Foods that we consider staples will become luxuries (this article explains how a drop in production of durum wheat is affecting the pasta making industry in Italy, for example, www.reuters.com/business/worst-come-pasta-makers-fret-over-durum-wheat-supply-crunch-2021-11-10 potentially increasing the price of a food that every Italian household depends on and is frequently part of at least one meal a day if not two.) The life style we have known, the activities we are accustomed to will go through an enormous upheaval. As photographers, we train ourselves to keep an eye out for things that most people miss. I know that, since I became interested in photography, I have developed a greater sensitivity to light conditions, for example, or an eye for details that others might not notice. Even without a camera, I often catch myself “composing” or “framing” images in my mind as I go through my daily life. I think we have almost a duty to use these skills to communicate the plight of the environment around us, to highlight these subtle changes that so often go unnoticed in people’s busy lives. I know, it’s almost certainly too late to reverse the changes, but by educating people and putting pressure on governments blinded by the god of economy, it could still be slowed down, giving us and the environment a little more time to adapt to a world that is, inevitably, becoming hotter and drier, losing costal lands (and whole islands) and being deprived of biodiversity as countless vegetable and animal species get wiped out.

My brother's next door neighbor is an elderly gentleman somewhere around 97 or 98 years old. He grew up on a farm and as far back as I can remember (my brother now lives in the house that used to be my parents') he was the go-to person in the neighborhood for anything you needed to know about planting, growing, and generally caring for a vegetable garden. Since his wife died, a few years back, he also takes care of the flowers in the front yard, with equally spectacular results. Please meet his beautiful pink hollyhocks, thriving in the summer sun. Hope everyone is enjoying their Sunday!

I have an internal stairway with a skylight where I shelter the potted geraniums during the winter. This year I got lazy and didn't return them all to the garden. The light from the skylight, however, seems to be enough for them to flower and this bloom lit from above caught my attention. For Andy and Maurice (HappySnapper). Wishing you both the resilience you need as Andy recovers from a tough battle and Maurice fights his own fight.

In a newly reopened park after the lifting of restrictions on the use of public spaces. Have a great week everyone and ... watch where you park your fanny! :D

inside a wild poppy (either that or a UFO landing in a lava filled crater ... :D )

On a spring walk, I enjoyed seeing how spring exuberance managed to colonise even the walls. First pip: a caper plant (these live exclusively on walls) sprouts colorful new leaves; Second pip: a wild flower manages to make a home even on a concrete wall; Third pip: a climbing vine comes alive after the winter rest.

Way too hot to go fence hunting this week, so these are from last summer. In the main image: Cucumber flowers in the vegetable garden with fence repurposed as a trellis. In the pip: Japanese lanterns, cultivated as ornamentals for their bright red fruit HFF to those sweltering in the heat and those who are in the midst of winter on the other side of the world!

Blackberry flower by the river, with visitor.

A second HFF for you today. On my "hamster walks" around the garden perimeter I noticed a new presence by the fence. I have never had periwinkles in the garden before and can only imagine that they somehow crossed over under the fence (my neighbour used to have them, but after she died a firm came and "cleared out" her garden, ripping out everything). Nature, however, does not give up easily and this little plant's resilience gladdened my day. Hope it does the same for you!

The iris is a little “architectural” marvel. From a furled-up lance, its petals unfold to form a complex structure that is clearly designed to take the best advantage of pollinators’ visits. Three of the petals arch upwards and overlap to form a canopy that protects the core of the flower, while the other three uncurl downwards like stuck-out tongues, revealing a delicate brush laden with pollen. Finally, inside, three more petals, smaller and slightly up-curled, enclose and protect the inner chamber, the source of the nectar. A visiting pollinator is therefore obliged to squeeze its way over the pollen brush, in order to reach the nectar inside, while we get to enjoy one of the most interesting and oddly shaped flowers in nature. :)

The plant, leaves and fruit look very much like wild strawberry. Only the bright yellow flower gives it away (as would, of course, your disappointed taste buds if you put the fruit in your mouth expecting a strawberry experience ...) as a different plant, a "mock strawberry". They are just starting to flower now and part of my half-wild garden is beginning to light up with these tiny yellow suns nestled in their artsy green crown.