I’ve always loved ferns. I grew up in the deep green heartland of an Eastern forest. It is truly a challenge to keep these thirsty plants happy and thriving here in our semi-arid climate. I really enjoy nurturing them. They need a humid environment and filtered light. So our master bath is a perfect place for them. But even with the daily showers they need to have their leaves misted at least twice a day. I bought a beautiful little brass fern mister to use for this ritual. They are different varieties of Adiantum (Maidenhair fern), with their distinctive dark, often black stipes and rachises, and bright green, delicately lacy leaves. I’ve worked hard to photograph them evocatively. It’s been a challenge – so today I’m thinking about what exactly it is that makes me love looking at them. Here are my early attempts to capture their magic.
“I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wondering awed about on a splintered wreck I’ve come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty bats and shines not in its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them…”