FlowerPower Collection
While shooting at The Old Mill, outside Little Rock, I stumbled on these beautiful flowers. Apparently, I was not the only one interested in them! Shot in Little Rock, AR on October 8, 2015 © John Schiller Photography
Shot on April 15, 2017 in Pittsburgh, PA © John Schiller Photography
©John Schiller Photography
©John Schiller Photography
©John Schiller Photography
©John Schiller Photography
©John Schiller Photography
©John Schiller Photography
©John Schiller Photography
©John Schiller Photography
©John Schiller Photography
©John Schiller Photography
©John Schiller Photography
©John Schiller Photography
178/365 A moment before the instant is a moment too. Just a different one.
Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
86/365 I have no idea what flower this is, but it has become a favorite of mine amongst the hundreds I have photographed. Early in the Pandemic, when we didn’t know what was in front of us, I found solace in walking in my neighborhood, and taking note of things I hadn’t paid that much attention to before. Some times it was the way a shadow played on the steps. Other times it was the mossy green mildew that stained a neighborhood fence. It was even taking note of how the trees filled in from one day to the next as Spring emerged from the coolness of late winter However, it was the flowers that earned the most attention. They offered unusual shapes and patterns, a textured softness amongst their own rainbow shades of color, and a level of hidden detail and inner beauty that would simply otherwise be passed by. The Pandemic slowed down our world. The Pandemic slowed down my world. And while this was turning out to be a cruel and difficult time, the budding flowers offered a sense by contrast of beauty and hope.
Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
218/365 Winter is coming. As summer moves into our rearview mirror, day becomes more about night . Early morning dew turns to frost, edging flowers still in bloom. Color will fade and petals will fall. Seasons are changing…
50/365 Ukraine, we pray for you. Stay strong.
Marstons Mills, Cape Cod, Massachusetts
103/365 Flowers enrich our world, don’t they? From a distance they bring color and texture to an otherwise, more neutral, less interesting landscape. But look close. No closer. In fact next time, stop, look inside, and like for so many other things, absorb the inner beauty. There’s been a hand at work here crafting a macro-world, engineering-like, that we just look totally past. Consider this flower: outer petals of yellow, with an inner ring at their base of lighter red morphing to a ruby red. The center core - probably the seed - is a tightly structured collection of concentric spirals of diamond-shaped mini-seeds wrapped around each other, fading from a burnt- orange to a yellowish orange, with a hint of green in its center. And to complete this unique design - there is a circle of tiny flower-like stamen planted around the inner core. Nature’s engineering. What does the bee see?
Marstons Mills, Cape Cod, Massachusetts
66/365 The early months of Covid were isolating for us all. During that time that we did a lot more walking around, paying much more attention to the detail of what nature put right in front of us - especially texture, color, shape and patterns. Flowers have it all. From a distance we’re drawn to shape and color of the petals - and the balance across the whole flower. But it is the inside, or core of the flower, where the detail of the stamen and pistil display incredible texture and patterns, and house the real prize, the pollen. Take for example, this purple flower. Now I am no expert on flowers - but this looks like a zinnia. The inner petals show a hint of pollen painted on the undersides. As you get closer to the center, these petals are wrapped tighter and tighter to where the petals look almost completely white. This is nature’s paintbrush.
201/365 A momentary glance out the window consumed my view with the color of summer. But something was different. There it was, frozen in motion among the flowers, reflecting the color from which it fed, drawing on the nectar of strength. The grace of a still hummingbird, and in an instant, it’s gone, darting about, to feed on the next source of color…
Orleans, Cape Cod, Massachusetts
151/365 Slow morning walks let you see way beyond the blur of the day, pausing along the roadside, to explore the inner soul of a nearby flower.