Annalia S.'s photos with the keyword: flowers

Happy Wall Wednesday! Wild flowers against the wall of the former church of Santa Maria dei Battuti (see PIP), now part of the municipal historical archive structure. Built between 1300 and 1400, it's one of the oldest buildings of the town of Belluno.

I was about 5 years old when my art teacher father got me my first serious painting kit. He wanted to get me oil based paints, but my mother put her foot down, so we went for more washable tempera paints. The art supply store, with its profusion of colors, its smells and mind boggling variety of brushes, spatulas, easels and palettes, was like a rutilant wonderland to me, better than any stores, even better than the toy store! What part of this phantasmagoria would be mine to take home, I wondered, excitedly. My dad took a long time selecting brushes, checking what hairs they were made of and picking different shapes and sizes. He explained his choices to me, but all I remember now is the wonder of the different textures: boar hairs were coarse and rigid, others as smooth as silk, and others even more incredibly light and almost feathery and would tickle the palm of your hand if you ran them across it. The paint tubes themselves, however, did not take long: a large tube of white, an equally large tube of black and four smaller tubes: yellow, blue and two kinds of red. Considering the endless variety of colors offered by the store, some of them - flowery pinks, aqua greens, light and dark turquoises - just irresistible to a young girl, this was a bit disappointing. “What about the other colors, Dad?” I asked. He smiled and said “You’ll see”. As we headed home he elaborated a bit on that rather unsatisfying answer: “You can make any color you saw in the store from the ones we got”. That sounded more hopeful, but I still couldn’t see how red, blue or yellow could be turned to aqua green or turquoise, or shocking pink. It sounded like some magic trick would be required. At 5 years of age, kids tend to believe their parents are all powerful. But still, magic tricks didn’t seem like his cup of tea. And yet, magic it was, of course. A wonderful magic that makes yellow and blue turn into a whole palette of greens depending on how much of each gets mixed in. And red and yellow into orange, blue and red into purple, but … wait! Red was a bit different; to get the right results, red had to come in two different versions: scarlet and vermillion. You needed scarlet red to make purple and vermillion red to make a proper orange. Switch them around and the magic would not work right. Vermillion red and blue made brown, not purple. And scarlet and yellow made a sort of salmon pink instead of orange. I understood the principle and could see some difference in those two colors, but still, red is red, isn’t it? Vermillion just seemed a little lighter and perhaps more brilliant than scarlet, but still it was just red to me. I did not really “get” vermillion, not until - that is - I saw my first pomegranate tree, or rather, the absolutely flamboyant flowers of the pomegranate tree. If you have ever seen them in real life, I think you’ll agree that “red” just does not do justice to them, doesn’t even begin to describe their happy, sunny, light-filled color that stands out so strikingly against the brilliant green of the leaves. The main photo and PIPs are all from two beautiful pomegranate trees in Piazza Savonarola's little city park which, this time of year, are in full bloom. I swear I must have spent nearly an hour there, shooting this way and that, into the trees and under the trees, sticking my camera through the branches to get close to the busy bees that were visiting their beautiful vermillion flowers. I hope you enjoy … well, I can’t say the fruit of my labour. It’s not really labour when you are having that much fun, is it? :) This is especially dedicated to Andy and Maurice (HappySnapper) who are going through tough times. Errata corrige: Upon rereading I realize I used the wrong red for the one that gives purple if mixed with blue: it's carmine, not scarlet! Sorry. Should re-read my stuff before I publish! :))

After years of field observations, my husband may be about to publish a paper on a new disease he has discovered, which he calls floritis. A seasonal ailment, floritis appears to strike each year between March and June, but may have different seasonal patterns depending on latitude and climate. Photographers seem to have a strong predisposition for floritis and should be considered a high risk population. The primary signs and symptoms of the disease, which manifest more keenly during walks, include a tendency to oh! and ah! every few minutes, whipping out pocket cameras or smartphones every few meters, getting into odd, contorted positions, primarily kneeling low on the ground but occasionally also climbing up steep embankments, squeezing into tight spots, invading the privacy of people’s gardens, and otherwise greatly impeding the progress and disrupting the overall enjoyment of conjugal walks. Other manifestations include spending considerable amounts of time in the garden - to the detriment of other domestic chores, such as fixing delicious meals for hungry spouses - but with nothing to show for it in terms of actual improvements in the upkeep of the garden or any other conceivable gardening activities. The disease needs further study with a larger cohort of subjects and double blind control groups, but, in the meantime, my husband considers it of vital importance that a photography community, such as Ipernity, should be on the look out for this menace to the wellbeing of photographers and (especially) their families. While in most cases the disease appears to resolve spontaneously as soon as the summer heat turns vegetation a dusty brown, there are documented cases of floritis affecting certain photographers all through the summer months and some highly predisposed individuals appear to never get over it altogether. In the PIPs some typical outcomes of the above described contorted positions are shown, to further help enlighten the community regarding this pernicious disorder.

Are you thinking of fixing a colorful and tasty fruit salad with real fruit that has not seen the inside of a refrigerator? Fancy a very Florentine "panino col lampredotto" for lunch? Need a summer hat? Want a bouquet of flowers for a loved one's birthday or a new potted plant for your balcony? Hungry for some pecorino cheese? Well, Sant'Ambrogio's open air market is where you want to be! After the Central Market got gentrified and "touristified", Sant'Ambrogio's is one of the very few real open air markets left and the only one near the center of town. Small but kaleidoscopically diverse (see PIPs), it's a feast for the eyes.

If we could send you flowers, Andy, this is what your room would look like. There would hardly be room for the medical equipment, the nurses and doctors would have to navigate a narrow path among the bouquets to get to you, the cleaning crew would throw a conniption fit and the other patients would emerge from unconsciousness to stare in bewilderment at the riot of colors. Well, we can't, of course, so you'll just have to imagine it. When frustration threatens to get you down, close your eyes for a moment and imagine something like this: florist after florist bringing in flowery get well wishes - "These are for Mr. Rodker, should I leave them with you, Nurse?" And the nurses getting less and less professional, until they burst out:"This is an ICU, for God's sake!" I hope something brings you a smile today, Andy. The road is undeniably long and tough and smiles will help.

For years I rode the bus and tram to work. At that time in the morning and then again in the afternoon when everyone gets off work, the buses are packed with short tempered and often not exactly sweet-smelling masses. It's the perfect time of the day for pickpockets and you have to be very careful with your purse or billfold. One day in 2008, on the occasion of a general transportation strike, I decided to try my luck and ride my bike there and back, a 1 hour ride right across town each way. That first day, when I got to work my face was the color of a ripe tomato. But here I am, 13 years later, and I never went back to using public transportation to get to work. Over the years, I experimented with various routes and now most of my way there I follow the course of the river, through riverside parks, trails and bike paths. I think the photos show quite clearly why I much prefer starting my day this way rather than on a crowded, smelly bus ... Not to mention that, nowadays, public transportation is also a hot bed that seems almost specifically designed to help the virus spread. The blue flowers in the photos are common chicory flowers. Chicory is used widely in Italian cuisine and cultivated in most kitchen gardens. So much so, that it manages to escape and reseed itself just about anywhere. While it likes growing on open lawns, you can only see the flowers in the morning, because they close up tightly and become invisible when the sun hits them directly. For Andy: may the road to recovery, even if challenging in itself, include little pleasant surprises that make the work less hard.

For Andy I understand that over the weekend the doctors will be taking off sedation and allowing you to come out of this long darkness, hopefully slowly and gently. The only memory I have that would even remotely compare is from a long time ago, when I woke, from a minor operation that had nonetheless required total anaesthesia, to find before me the worried face of a nurse that had been shaking me and calling me loudly. "You gave me quite a scare, Blondie! I couldn't seem to be able to call you back!" he exclaimed as his features relaxed. As for me, however, I was as crossed as could be and felt like a persistent, irritating alarm had just woken me, way too early, from a deep, untroubled sleep and recalled me to a none too pleasant reality. So maybe, more than ever, this is the time you will need us to send your way as much light and color as we can, to help smooth the transition. If, like me, you wake up none too pleased and your ears buzz, well, blame it on us, Andy! It's probably us saying over and over: "Come on, Andy!" "Wake up, Andy!" "We're waiting for you, Andy!" "Hurry up and get back to us, Andy!"

For Andy Hurry up and show that virus what you are made of, Andy! Spring is out there waiting for you, with lots of flowers to be visited and honey to be tasted ...

In the main image, gardens in bloom along the left bank of the Arno River. In the Pip, light at play among the plants in my garden.

Wishing everyone a nice Easter weekend! Italy will be locked down again (as we did for X-mas), but the weather promises to be nice and I look forward to some nice walks on our favorite haunts. In the pic, a tiny nest blown off by the wind and some garden flowers. Perfectly, beautifully constructed and small enough that the whole thing fit in my hand. I figure it's too small even for a robin, so perhaps it's a tit's nest.

From the first spring blooms in my garden, here's wishing you a ... __ romantic __ steamy __ cuddly __ dreamy __ purring __ cosy __ mushy __spicy __ passionate __ tender __ sensual __ heartwarming __ red hot __ starry-eyed Valentine's Day! (multiple choices permitted, of course!)

Riding through the Isolotto open air market in the morning, I noticed an elderly vendor downloading her produce crates from her car and stopped to ask to take a picture of her beautiful fresh zucchini flowers. She seemed very pleased that her freshly picked production had caught someone's eye. In the pip: the stacked crates creating a colorful geometric pattern. A little extra for those of you who like to cook just below: my Grandma's Margherita's recipe for fried stuffed zucchini flowers. Ingredients: fresh zucchini flowers, anchovies preserved in oil, cheese (any non-seasoned cow milk cheese, like fontina, that will melt when heated), flour, water, beer (optional), frying oil. Clean the flowers well with a damp cloth (no washing), leaving a bit of the stalk. Inside each flower place a little cube of cheese and a third or half of an anchovy (depending how salty you like your food). Fold or twist the flowers closed and dip them in a lightly salted batter of flour and water (if you want the fried zucchini to come out fluffier, prepare the batter a couple of hours ahead of time and mix in some beer, leaving it outside the fridge. If you need to make them gluten free, use rice flower for the batter, adding an egg and skipping the beer). Deep fry the flowers in oil until golden and serve hot. Enjoy!!!

As it gets warmer all sorts of critters show up in the garden. Hope everyone is having a sunny Sunday!

In the main image: geraniums finally ready to emerge from their hairy buds! :))) first PIP: thriving oxalis second PIP: volunteer wild daisies (Mexican fleabane) third PIP: hydrangea taking its sweet time blooming :D fourth PIP: tiny hunter in the geranium jungle ;)

Somebody must have told the rosebushes it's May: all of a sudden ... roses everywhere! Sometimes in places where you have to crane your neck to see them. In the main image: Virgola's rose - so named because we planted it over our kitty's grave. In the pips: potted rosebushes we rescued from a neighbour's yard after she died and her plants were abandoned. It took them a while to bounce back from being left without water for quite a while, but now they seem to be doing well. Ok, except the rose coloured roses that are way too tall because I am totally inept at trimming rosebushes ;) Have a nice Sunday, everybody!

Colorful details from the garden In the main image a tiny bronze coloured bug on my rose bush In the pips (top to bottom): 1. fallen physalis flowers 2. a rue twig against a terracotta shingle 3. new green leaves against the old shed wall 4. new green leaves composition 5. trio of pink flowers 6. fig leaves unfolding

Spring is by far my favorite time of the year and being confined at home at this time is undeniably a bummer. But really I should not complain, since I am one of the lucky ones who have a garden where I can still enjoy glimpses of Nature's awakening. Here's a still life of the colorful finds I collected in the garden yesterday. Have a good week, everyone.

A Japanese quince bush all dressed up in its fiery red spring color. I love the waxy texture and showy hardiness of these flowers. These grow right up against a garden fence on the street side, which allowed me to stick my camera between the fence posts and take a close up of a group of blossoms surrounded by a sea of their siblings.