Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: Unexpected

This was a tough challenge: unexpected!
Especially for a “nature photographer”.

Finding something more unnatural in my photo albums took some digging. Eventually, I began to see that the “unexpected” shots I had could be divided into objects and behaviors. The appeal of these photos is that they can tell a story all by themselves, even without an explanation. What kind of story would you write about these scenes?

 My thanks to Ann-Christine for this refreshing invitation to reveal the unexpected. 

Weekly Photo Challenge: Twist

“Twist” is filthy with meaning: it’s the unexpected, it’s surprise, it’s even an amazing ice cream choice. What does “twist” mean to you?

Being a bibliophile, I immediately think of a plot twist, the kind that makes you tingle with pleasure in the last chapters of the mystery novel you’re reading.  “Wow!  I never saw THAT coming!”  Such delight.  I did find an appropriately twisty photo that I snapped while hiking around Lapham Peak State Park in early spring.  We were looking for lichen, on a whim, and found ourselves outside the warming house near the skating pond.  I suppose they use that building for winter events, family-oriented programs that might include a craft project or something, because I happened upon this item posing as a lingering patch of snow in the leaf litter….

twist 2

A plastic snowflake.  Natural….but not.  It made me laugh.


© 2014, essay and photographs, Priscilla Galasso, All rights reserved

Weekly Photo Challenge: Unexpected

Surprise!  It’s not what you expected.  How do you respond?  Laughter.  Disappointment.  Curiosity.  Do you set it ‘right’?  How did you come to have an expectation about this, anyway?  Expectations produce emotions.  They set you up, mostly for suffering, if you become attached to those expectations.  If the discovery that you have harbored some expectation takes you by surprise, but you’re not emotionally invested in it, it can be funny.  “Oh, yeah, I guess I wasn’t expecting that.  But there it is.  How interesting!”  Steve’s favorite story about this goes something like this:

A Zen master who had recently had a mini-stroke was invited to perform a traditional ceremony of calligraphy.  He had practiced this art for years and participated in the ritual often.  He calmly took his place and lifted the long, slender brush.  Carefully, he dipped it into the ink and raised it above the thin rice paper.  The assembly was silent.  His hand was still.  Moments passed.  Gradually, a wondrous smile spread across the master’s face.  He laid the brush aside and beamed.  “I’ve forgotten how!”  he laughed. 

May you know delight in all that unfolds.  Peace, my friends.