It should go without saying that by staying at home, we are helping to keep our friends, our neighbors, and yes, ourselves, safe. As someone who used to commute almost five hours a day, I am thankful for the extra time I can now spend with my family. With this extra time at home has come a newfound appreciation for my home itself. Well, not so much my home as where I've chosen to live out my days (at least for now). And that includes the plants growing around the perimeter of my house. In the "old" days, before the coronavirus, in my daily rush to the train station every morning and my rush to join my family for dinner every night, it was easy to overlook the hostas growing in our front yard. But since the world shut down, I find myself becoming more introspective, and more thoughtful in general about the world around me.
Like observing (and enjoying) the way the afternoon sun transforms the hostas. When the sunlight hits the plants a certain way, the leaves glow. And, lately, I've been photographing them a lot. (I've become a street photographer without the street, after all.) Over the last several days, I feel that I've finally come to understand the unexpected beauty of these sturdy plants. I've also come to understand that there's more to the world than a city skyline. Sometimes, there's beauty at our feet, too. This is a journalism of a different sort, this careful documentation of the natural, observable world.
As for this photo, I'm not usually one for minimalism in my work, but I appreciate the simplicity of this image. And who can't use a bit of simplicity right about now?