When Deb and I paid the entrance fee for the Lauritzen Gardens in Omaha, Nebraska, a few weeks ago, we weren't expecting much given that the gardens were past bloom and prepared for winter. But we were surprised by what we found. And even if we hadn't found anything worth seeing, it would have been good just to stroll through a largely deserted landscape on a nice November day.
I suspect that many gardeners would feel that what you are seeing here is a mess that needs to be cleaned up. But I see a great mix of lines, colors and textures. This isn't quite like Monet's famous lily ponds at Giverney but this but perhaps a way to pay tribute the one of my favorite artists.
Canon 5DIII 1/250s f/5.0 ISO200 100mm

My friend Dennis Newman, who is an artist and an art/photography instructor, says that good art (including photographs) should invoke emotion. I heard him say that about a year ago and since then I have tested most of the photos I post here with this question: "What do I want my viewers to feel and think?" Not all of the photos I post have a certain answer to this question, though I've been posting long enough to know that what I feel as the photographer isn't always the same as what you feel as the viewer. Such is the nature of art. . .
So today's photo is a huge leap from what I've been posting the last couple days. Is there some plan that I have so that I can keep my viewers off balance? No. In fact, the number of views I get when I post kids goes way up. Today's photo won't get a third of the hits yesterday's got. But that's OK with me. . . . 
Each year I donate a photo to the 
The "golden hour" is generally defined as the hour of sunlight just before sunset. It is particularly conducive to natural light portraiture, though other things, including landscapes and cityscapes, look better in this light, too.
I am in Salt Lake City for a couple days and on my first morning, I drove north to Antelope Island State Park. Part of what intrigued me was the fact that the island was connected to land by a long causeway across part of the Great Lake Lake. It turns out that much of the water had evaporated and so I drove across flats of brownish white minerals.
My friend, Scott, may dispute my choice of the word "hope" in the title of this post. I have no idea if he was hopeful when he took his rod and reel out into the gentle surf at sunset on a perfect October evening along the Florida Gulf Coast.


