Textures in Stillness
I’m back to nature today. I love the energy of street photography, but every so often I need the stillness of plants, the kind of subject that doesn’t hurry me along. There’s no pressure when the leaves stay still; I can slow down, study the light, and take my time adjusting the angle until everything clicks.
For this set I returned to my “window-frame” layout, a small collage of moments. In the top-left frame, a fuzzy new leaf leans into the light beside a rough trunk, soft against coarse, the kind of contrast I’m always chasing. The top-right is all about lines: a broad leaf with veins that curve like a map, catching light along the edges. Bottom-left, deep shadows turn a leaf into cracked porcelain; I waited a bit for the light to shine just enough to reveal that pattern. And the bottom-right stacks overlapping leaves like pages, the ribs forming gentle ridges that guide the eye through the frame.
I processed these in black and white to let texture do the talking. Removing color simplifies the scene and lets me shape the mood, lifting highlights, deepening blacks, and drawing out those veins and edges that might feel flat in color. It’s a small reminder that even the most ordinary leaf can feel dramatic when the light is right.
What I enjoy most about shooting nature is the space it gives me to look closely. A few centimeters forward or back changes the background; a slight tilt can hide a distraction or reveal a line I didn’t see at first. That patient practice refreshes me, and when I go back to the streets, I carry that calm attention with me.
”To see in color is a delight for the eye, but to see in black and white is delight for the soul.”
Beauty at its finest!