Rain and knitting are better partners than rain and peonies. Vancouver and the Lower Mainland has been deluged over the last few days with winter-like rains. Cold temperatures too. Makes me want to pick up wool and needles and get busy, which is good.... However, my peonies are falling down like tired soldiers, legs too weak to hold up their heavy, rain-sodden heads. I feel the need to rescue them to a vase where I can revel in the fragrance and colour. Lose/win.
Yesterday I was working on a photo shoot of some newly completed felted bowls (a few posted on the felt page). The perfume of this beauty found its way across the room, begging me to record its short but stunning life before it began to wilt. I think this was the best photo of the day, hands down. Wool can't compete with the colour, subtle shading and velvet-soft petals of a peony. Growing up in Winnipeg, this was one of the first summer blooms to arrive, just after the spring lilacs. After the long winter, the peonies would reclaim their dominance over the garden, an amazing feat, in my mind. How could any plant come back year after year, braving the harsh climate? I remember my grandma arriving for Sunday dinner, bouquet of peonies in hand. They would be draped over the edge of the kitchen sink, waiting for the last of the tiny ants to exit their blossom home. I later found out that without ants, peony blossoms won't open. Is that why the small buds on a clipped stem don't change? Fascinating.
Amy dropped by as I was taking pictures. She was pretty impressed with Jon's light-box creation. She snapped this picture with her iPhone.
I think I am a better knitter than photographer. That being said, I have never been one to shy away from a challenge, and I am determined to make my product photos look as good as the real thing. So far, I have mastered peonies. Still working on bowls....
I hope to guilt Jill into helping me.
We are off to see Steve Earle tonight, so in preparation for the evening, he will be blasting out of the stereo all day today. He has a memorable stage presence... unimpressed with our ardour, honest in his stories about his life, talented beyond belief... like a favourite pair of boots. Toes a bit worn from kicking too many curbs, lots of creases and scuffs, but better with age than any new pair could ever be. Sorry Steve! Can't wait to see you!