Folding Light on Quiet Leaves
It's been raining a lot lately and so I'm having difficulty timing my photography walks. As much as I wanted to go to the streets to take photos, I'm worried that I may get caught under a rain so I'd rather take photos of plants nearby to be safe. Plants are the patient models that let me slow down, move quietly, and study how light wraps around form.
For today’s set, I wanted to showcase the photos I took the other day, four small stories that speak to each other in monochrome.
In the top left, a leaf curls like a ribbon, catching a thin slice of midday light. Opposite it, a tight bud holds its shape against a soft background, almost sculptural in the way the shadows protect it. Below, another bud opens with two petals pushing forward; like a whisper that something is about to happen. And in the last frame, a wide leaf showing faint veins that read like lines on a palm.
Black and white made these moments feel more honest. Color was pleasant, but it kept distracting me from the textures I wanted to show, the gloss of the surface, the fine ridges, the subtle difference where sun met shade. During editing, I raised the highlights a bit and deepened the blacks just enough to emphasize the shape from the background while preserving the midtones. The goal wasn’t to dramatize, but to let the light do the talking.
What I love about photographing plants is that there’s no rush. I can wait for a small cloud to soften the glare, shift an inch to lose a stray reflection, and breathe. The ordinary becomes graphic; the simple becomes quiet and strong. These frames aren’t loud, but they hold a calm kind of confidence; and that’s the mood I wanted to bring back today.
”To see in color is a delight for the eye, but to see in black and white is delight for the soul.”
Beautiful shots!