How one picture can lead to another

On Saturday everyone retired for an afternoon nap but I was reluctant to waste a windfree, golden afternoon on sleeping and, besides, I had noticed this pot planted up with dainty geraniums and dazzling cerise vygies.

Tripod set up and a small wooden stool placed behind it (there's no way I can lower myself to the ground, let alone get up again)  the vygies were first under the macro lens.

The contrast of the of the bright pink against the succulent green leaves was particularly eye-catching.

I was really losing myself in the inner depths and details of the blooms when the serpent in paradise arrived, in the shape of the gorgeous Cassie.  Grabbing the tripod and precious camera and holding them up in the air, I tried to fend off the total onslaught of a large German Shepherd dog determined to demonstrate just how much she had missed me in the fifteen minutes since she'd been closed up in my sister's bedroom.  This picture taken at the Palmiet Lagoon shows how big she is, so it can be seen that I was at something of a disadvantage in the scuffle.

Anyhow..... Cassie having been persuaded back to the bedroom I focused again on the flower pot and the shy, delicate beauty of the pale pink geraniums.  Could there be anything more perfect than this?

Looking at plants through a macro lens is so exciting; at first there's the multicoloured blur of colour and then, as you begin to focus, shapes and details begin to resolve.  Next comes the decision about which small area  to emphasize.  Often the subject that attracted you initially isn't what you end up snapping and in any event you find that you could go on and on, just moving the lens slightly every time.  Tiny details like the sea salt on these leaves and the speckles and dots on the surface of the pot are something that would go unseen under normal circumstances.

Red petals swirl like a flamenco dancer's skirts.

All this promise of potential beauty enfolded in a tiny bud.