All photos ©2010 Lee Anne White

While these bags may not work for me when I'm shooting on assignment in the landscape or traveling cross country with heavy gear, they look ideal for those times when I'm traveling lighter and don't want to "look" like a photographer...like a few weekends ago, when attending a college reunion weekend. I needed more than one lens and a few small peripherals, plus room for personal items, and it was a dressy occasion (at least compared to working in the garden). One of these bags might have been perfect. They hold a surprising amount of gear, are padded, with adjustable compartments for lenses, and extra pockets for things like batteries and filters. 

Anyhow, I applaud her concept and love her website. Check it out.

Patio and Walkway Ideas That Work is a sourcebook of ideas for outdoor living. Here's the publisher's description:

As the line between indoor and outdoor living spaces continues to blur, creating greater fluidity and a feeling of openness, homeowners are eager to tap into the projects that will enrich their lives and beautify their homes. With over 300 fresh ideas covering a range of patio and walkway styles and sizes, plus top-notch design advice, Patio & Walkway Ideas that Work is the most complete and up-to-date patio and walkway design sourcebook. From pergolas to grilling islands, poolside patios to front paths that make a grand statement, readers will delight in having instant access to all the essentials of designing and installing a new patio or walk, as well as accessorizing an existing patio. Patio & Walkway Ideas that Work creates a path to affordable, smart home improvement whether undertaking a project yourself or hiring a contractor.
 

Publisher's description: "Containers are wonderful accents anywhere in the landscape. For those with small spaces or beginner skills, they offer an easy and affordable way to add stylish touches to their surroundings. Every gardener will find unique inspiration in Container Gardening Idea Book. Part of Taunton’s best-selling Idea Book series, it’s an amazing visual clip file with over 300 photos, plant recipes, and eye-catching designs for container gardens of all shapes and sizes. It will inspire gardeners to experiment with new plants, from flowers to vegetables and herbs; with color and texture combinations; and with pot shapes and materials. Readers can’t go wrong with this fresh content from the editors and contributors of Fine Gardening on how best to display containers throughout the landscape, change them up every season, and so much more."

Product Details: Paperback, 224 pp, 325 photos, 80 drawings, $19.95 list price, ISBN 978-1-60085-395-1

We'll spend our mornings and evenings amid quaint cottage gardens, lush perennial borders, fragrant herb gardens, expansive botanical gardens and lupine-filled meadows. Mid-day, we'll review images and discuss a range of topics--both technical and creative in nature. We'll also spend a day playing in the studio, looking at flowers in unexpected ways. In the evening, enjoy presentations by some of the most notable working photographers in the country today. Even the food (which is eaten outdoors beneath a big white tent) is great. It's a wonderful week for expanding your photographic skills, exploring some amazing gardens, and enjoying the company of others who share your passions.

The dates have just been confirmed, and the workshop descriptions/registration information should be posted soon. If you'd like to be notified when the online catalog is posted or would like to receive a copy of the printed catalog, just drop me a line with your contact info.

I can't say enough good things about the Maine Media Workshops. They've been a leader in photography, film and muliti-media education more than 30 years. I started by taking workshops there many years ago, and have enjoyed leading many workshops over the past ten years. It would be great to have you join us in June!

My interest in Fort Clinch is not so much military as architectural. The bricks used for its construction vary by time period, but most were handmade and came from nearby St. Mary’s Island. If you look closely, you can find brick makers’ fingerprints along the walls. The arched ceilings in the five bastions and the long tunnels that lead to them are works of art and feats of engineering, designed to support troops and heavy canons overhead. The natural light that flows into the fort and its freestanding buildings is soft and magical, highlighting the texture of the bricks and showing their wear.

I have photographed Fort Clinch on several occasions. Each time, the light is different and I make new discoveries. Yesterday was the first time I walked all the way around the exterior of the fort. It was cold, windy and spitting rain on the northernmost tip of Amelia Island, but I enjoyed bundling up, braving the wind, traipsing alongside the live oaks and skirting the shoreline.

These are quick-and-dirty images processed on my laptop. I look forward to giving them fair treatment on my “big” computer back at the office when I return home and adding them to my collection of other images. But when I’m on the road alone, I enjoy sharing a few of my experiences along the way. It gives me a sense of connection to family and friends. So I hope you’ll enjoy—even if the images are still a little rough around the edges.

 All photos ©2011 Lee Anne White. All rights reserved.

I have never been afraid of snakes. I simply have a healthy respect for them—especially those with large triangular heads, like the rattlesnakes, copperheads and water moccasins we have around here and whose bites are venomous. When I was about 10 years old, I attended Camp Rainey Mountain for a week. Despite the fact that this is a Boy Scout camp and I was a girl (whose father was the head scoutmaster), they let me swim with the boys, attend campfires, earn merit badges and milk a rattlesnake. Even now, I remember what it felt like holding that snake behind its head as it clamped its curved fangs down into some gauze stretched across a jelly jar. Drops of whitish liquid dripped into the bottom of the small container. That experience taught me to be cautious around, but not frightened of snakes. And I remain so, even after being bitten.

Did it hurt? Well, yes. I yelled some things I probably wouldn’t want my mother to hear. I ran and stuck my foot in the pool for cool relief (but was quickly reminded that in mid-summer, the water is warmer than the air at night). Truthfully, it did not hurt that much more than being stung by paper wasps last year. If it had not been for the two bleeding puncture marks, I’m not sure I would have known it was a snake. After all, it was dark outside. I never saw what struck me.

I’m told that this—striking at night, unexpectedly and even around a home—is not unusual for copperheads. They bite quietly and quickly in defense, and then flee the scene without notice. Once my foot started swelling and turning blue, we headed for the ER. There, they had answers. They claim to see a lot of copperhead bites around these parts in July and August, and say that copperheads are far more likely than other poisonous snakes to attack without warning. Still, I think it’s odd that I’ve gone my entire life and never known anyone who was bitten by a poisonous snake.

I learned that this was a copperhead and not a rattlesnake. It was a quick, defensive bite rather than a lingering hunting bite. It was most likely from a mature copperhead (based on the width between puncture marks) rather than a baby copperhead. The bite is on my foot, rather than close to my midsection, where you would find my glands and organs. And I’m a healthy adult. All of these are good things. A rattlesnake, for instance, has more potent venom. And a baby copperhead is more likely to “latch on,” dispensing a greater amount of venom, even in a defensive situation. Don’t let the size of any poisonous snake fool you; they are all dangerous, no matter how tiny.

According to the three local doctors I saw during two trips to the ER and a follow-up office visit, the anti-venom is given only in extreme cases for copperhead bites. It is very expensive, requires special approval, takes roughly an hour just to mix the ingredients, and is unnecessary in most cases. Copperhead bites are painful, but generally not life threatening. Their venom damages tissue rather than nerves. Still, it’s not like getting a bee sting. The pain lasts, and the bite can potentially cause lasting damage. I was treated with fluids, very strong pain medication and something for nausea, and told to keep an eye on things. So I waited—at the ER, and at home. Four days later, I’m still waiting and watching.

The swelling stretches from my toes to nearly three-quarters of the way up my thigh. I’m hoping it stops before it reaches my hip. My foot and much of my calf are now blue from bruising. As long as my foot is propped up on pillows with ice, I’m comfortable. I can finally bear to touch my foot, but cannot yet rest it on the floor. I am not used to spending my days in a bed. In fact, I had to cancel a series of photo shoots this week, and next week's plans remain uncertain. They have estimated that I will be in bed a week or so until the swelling subsides, and that it will take longer for the pain to subside.

I am reminded of how much we take for granted. It’s a big deal to brush my teeth and change my clothes —not that I have any reason to get dressed up. I have not yet been able to fetch my own glass of water or prepare my own meal. And I couldn’t drive my car even if I wanted to, especially since it is a stick shift. I don’t like having to be waited on, yet I appreciate the kindness and patience of those who have been here for me more than I know how to express.

The worst part of all of this is that my dog has abandoned me. Well, not really. But Boone runs whenever he hears the crutches, and won’t come anywhere near if they are in the room. He is also frightened by the yellow balloon floating above the foot of my bed, a gift from a friend that brightens my days. Today, Alan tried to show Boone that the balloon was friendly and wasn’t going to hurt him. He held and stroked the balloon, even pretended to give it a kiss. (He may kill me for sharing this.) Now I believe Boone barks at the balloon because he thinks Alan loves it instead of me. The cat, on the other hand, is quite happy with this arrangement and could care less about the balloon. Chester gets to spend the entire day curled up by my side in bed rather than being tossed a dozen times off my desk and eventually locked outdoors.

Two of my nieces—Emma, 10, and Mary Griffin, 7—came to visit yesterday. After giving me a hug, they went and sat across the room on the sofa. I asked if they’d rather sit on the bed. They looked at my leg and said, “No, that’s okay.”  Later, I asked them if they’d like to see the fang marks. Without hesitation, they rushed over and bounded on the bed for a closer look. Kids. Emma said she’d like to come back and spend the night. I told her I would like that, but maybe after I was walking again. Otherwise, she’d have to cook dinner for me. She said that was okay; she had learned how to use a toaster oven. Perhaps I should take her up on that offer.

Interestingly, this has been just one in a series of events (including some good things) that have forced me to slow down this summer. Admittedly, I don’t slow down as often as I should, especially in summer, when I tend to spend most of my time traversing the country, photographing gardens from before sunrise until after sunset. And the past two years, with graduate school thrown into the mix, have been especially grueling—though simultaneously stimulating. As it turns out, the events of this summer are providing good time for reflection and rest, as well as for reconnecting with myself and others. I will take advantage of that while it lasts and be thankful that it was only a copperhead.

At first, we cursed our fogging lenses and worked primarily on strategies to keep our cameras dry. (Shower caps are great for this, by the way.) But once we settled in a bit, the magic started to happen. It wasn't the first time I'd photographed in cold or rain by any means, but it was the day that I truly discoverd the magic of shooting in inclement weather. Or should I say, the magic of sticking with it, despite all of the challenges, to get the shot. By the time we packed our bags and headed back to the classroom to drop off our film, we were all anxious to see the results. Indeed, they were some of the best images taken all week. They were the shots that others don't get, because others usually do sit by the fireplace on cold, drizzly days.

That stick-with-it-attitude we learned that week has come to the rescue for me on countless assignments over the years when--thanks to inclement weather, broken gear, bad timing, travel hassels, or other problems--I really wasn't sure if I'd be able to deliver the job. But rather than give up, I stuck with it--often to the point that I simply gave up approaching things the usual way and just began to play. I've always returned home with publishable work. Indeed, what turned out to be one of my most frustrating magazine assignments ever resulted in a front-cover image. Thanks, at least in part, to Brenda and the Maine Media Workshops.

I'm still a student, and still take workshops from time to time because there is always something new to learn, some new territory to explore, another instructor to inspire me to look at things a new way. As an instructor, this is what I most love to do--get students to look at things in new ways, to break out of their routine, to expand their visual vocabulary, to try something they've never tried before. We work hard and we play hard. We go where we haven't gone before. That's what a workshop should be all about.

I guess my thoughts today are two-fold: Remember that the magic often happens when you push beyond your frustration level. And if you want to experience a week of growth, consider taking a workshop from a photographer or other individual you've always admired. It's a great opportunity for creative growth.