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Whispering reeds: Birth of spring I-II-III

I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way,
Bare Winter suddenly was changed to Spring,
And gentle odours led my steps astray,
Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring

From the poem ‘The Question’ by Percy Bysshe Shelley
(See the full poem below)

A warm winter… a sunny day… early in the morning… the rising sun just above the hills… a cold lake where a veil of fog rises to the clear sky…
These are the ingredients for a triptych, made a few weeks ago from the sloping land bordering the western bank of the Visby Bredning, a part of the Limfjord in North Jutland, Denmark.
It was such a rare moment in which you see the color palette of an almost snowless, too warm winter, suddenly transition into the palette of the early spring.

‘Birth of spring’ is a triptych in the series ‘Whispering reeds’, part of the gallery ‘Untouched land‘.

 

Jacob Berghoef, Jaap Berghoef, Fine Art Photography, Kunstfotografie, Kunstfotograaf, Kunstfotograf, Kunst Fotografering, Photographic impressionism, Fotografisch impressionisme, Fotografisk impressionisme, impressionistische fotografie, impressionist photography, impressionistisk fotografi, Experimental photography, Experimentele fotografie, Eksperimentel fotografering, Puur, Pure, Ren, Ægte, ICM, intentional camera movement, opzettelijke camera beweging, forsætlig kamera bevægelse, fotografisch impressionist, photographic impressionist, fotografisk impressionist, kunst, art, abstract art, abstracte kunst, abstrakt kunst, abstract, bewegingsfoto, bewegingsfotografie, Fotografie, Photography, Fotografering, minimalism, minimalist, less, minimal, simple, eenvoudig, minimalisme, abstract realism         Jacob Berghoef, Jaap Berghoef, Fine Art Photography, Kunstfotografie, Kunstfotograaf, Kunstfotograf, Kunst Fotografering, Photographic impressionism, Fotografisch impressionisme, Fotografisk impressionisme, impressionistische fotografie, impressionist photography, impressionistisk fotografi, Experimental photography, Experimentele fotografie, Eksperimentel fotografering, Puur, Pure, Ren, Ægte, ICM, intentional camera movement, opzettelijke camera beweging, forsætlig kamera bevægelse, fotografisch impressionist, photographic impressionist, fotografisk impressionist, kunst, art, abstract art, abstracte kunst, abstrakt kunst, abstract, bewegingsfoto, bewegingsfotografie, Fotografie, Photography, Fotografering, minimalism, minimalist, less, minimal, simple, eenvoudig, minimalisme, abstract realism

Jacob Berghoef, Jaap Berghoef, Fine Art Photography, Kunstfotografie, Kunstfotograaf, Kunstfotograf, Kunst Fotografering, Photographic impressionism, Fotografisch impressionisme, Fotografisk impressionisme, impressionistische fotografie, impressionist photography, impressionistisk fotografi, Experimental photography, Experimentele fotografie, Eksperimentel fotografering, Puur, Pure, Ren, Ægte, ICM, intentional camera movement, opzettelijke camera beweging, forsætlig kamera bevægelse, fotografisch impressionist, photographic impressionist, fotografisk impressionist, kunst, art, abstract art, abstracte kunst, abstrakt kunst, abstract, bewegingsfoto, bewegingsfotografie, Fotografie, Photography, Fotografering, minimalism, minimalist, less, minimal, simple, eenvoudig, minimalisme, abstract realism

I               II
III

Click on the images to see the series

 

 

‘The Question’, by Percy Bysshe Shelley

1.
I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way,
Bare Winter suddenly was changed to Spring,
And gentle odours led my steps astray,
Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring
Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay
Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling
Its green arms round the bosom of the stream,
But kissed it and then fled, as thou mightest in dream.

2.
There grew pied wind-flowers and violets,
Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth,
The constellated flower that never sets;
Faint oxslips; tender bluebells, at whose birth
The sod scarce heaved; and that tall flower that wets–
Like a child, half in tenderness and mirth–
Its mother’s face with Heaven’s collected tears,
When the low wind, its playmate’s voice, it hears.

3.
And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine,
Green cowbind and the moonlight-coloured may,
And cherry-blossoms, and white cups, whose wine
Was the bright dew, yet drained not by the day;
And wild roses, and ivy serpentine,
With its dark buds and leaves, wandering astray;
And flowers azure, black, and streaked with gold,
Fairer than any wakened eyes behold.

4.
And nearer to the river’s trembling edge
There grew broad flag-flowers, purple pranked with white.
And starry river buds among the sedge,
And floating water-lilies, broad and bright,
Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge
With moonlight beams of their own watery light;
And bulrushes, and reeds of such deep green
As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen.

5.
Methought that of these visionary flowers
I made a nosegay, bound in such a way
That the same hues, which in their natural bowers
Were mingled or opposed, the like array
Kept these imprisoned children of the Hours
Within my hand,–and then, elate and gay,
I hastened to the spot whence I had come,
That I might there present it!–Oh! to whom?

 

 

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