Drop green
932 creative works found
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This was my 3 year old daughters first time playing in the rain. It was so amazing to watch her delight . I think we can all relate to tilting our faces up toward the heavens, trying to catch the rain as it falls on our cheeks. FOR PAY IT FORWARD: “Nominated by- Danae Leach” / “what she wrote“ “This is one of my most faves. I love children so much and their innocence, pure happiness and complete faith in all things good and magical. I remember when I used to be little and I loved being out in the summer rains”
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A list of all the other great artists that made it into Gaia is here / / / / Have a look at my other photos. For example: / / / / / / / / / / / / Or browse through one of my categories flower / poppy / water / leaf / other / reflection / macro / insect / dragonfly / damselfly
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Author: Sally Omar / Word Count: 141 / browse writing next / The years passed quickly / Each one faster than before / Hours flew by / Soon there would be no more She toiled very hard / Working on the land / Her face was wrinkled / Rough were the palms of her hand Her husband passed on / Children moved away / She now treasured every moment / Every single day Old fashioned was she / A woman of pride / Always told the truth / Never did she lie Could not understand / How things were so rearranged / People so different / The world had certainly changed She walked the path / Of the righteous …always eager to please / Prayed every day / Down on her knees She was often lonely / Missed her family and friends / Still she appreciated life / And would till the end She knew the day was coming / To unburden her load / She knew that soon / Would be the End Of The Road / Thanks very much Sally Omar :)
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I took this photo in my backyard after the rain today. I think it worked well as the flower seems to jump out from the contrasting blurry green background. Hope you all like it.
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Collaboration: This is my original photograph November Rain with a little addition by the very talented Cliff / / Any proceeds from sales will be donated to the RSPCA. / /
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A water drop cradled in a dandelion seed 1:1 macro
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Small droplets clinging to a web found in the base of an old fig tree. If you look close enough you can even see the little bug running up the web, also covered in dew!
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It’s Easter today and my mom stopped over early to give these to me, I took a picture of them to make them last forever. Today is a beautiful sun shiny day, the sky is so blue with puffy white clouds. Well I better get busy and put the Ham in the oven….............Happy Easter !!!!!!
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ABOUT MY EXHIBITION The woks exhibited represent the linkup of two artists, a photographer and a sculptor. Such an attempt to blend two spheres of art is really innovative and a bit unexpected. There had been few who were successful in such an attempt. Both authors, blending their art by the means of the photo art, are the winners. Sculpture, as such, is rather a static art, sometimes “performing” in a specific, sometimes artificial, environment. However, the means of the plastic photography, seemingly, make the sculptures movable, dynamic; they make you feel the sculptures are moving. They become alive, start moving and react both to the environment and the views captured by the photographer. I would like the viewers also note the colour solutions of the photos, aimed at the strengthening of the overall impression of the imagery. The original blend and overlapping of two arts let see the impressive plastic metaphors, giving birth to various associations. / /
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We haven’t had any rain for a long time…...............it’s just so beautiful. / /
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All proceeds from sales from will go to the / TorontoHumaneSociety You love the roses – so do I. I wish / The sky would rain down roses, as they rain / From off the shaken bush. Why will it not? / Then all the valley would be pink and white / And soft to tread on. They would fall as light / As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be / Like sleeping and like waking, all at once! Roses by George Eliot
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/ MCN: CE7F2-E8A3E-A01EF / / © Imber 2007. All photographs and artworks in this portfolio are copyrighted and owned by the artist, Imber. Any reproduction, modification, publication, transmission, transfer, or exploitation of any of the content, for personal or commercial use, whether in whole or in part, without written permission from the artist is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved. / / / / /
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Fluids in motion fascinate my senses. I feel their smooth and effortless curves: structures reflecting a perfect balance of dynamic forces. They tickle some faint physical memory, like a scent evoking a forgotten mix of feelings. / - w.b One of my all time personal fav, and one of the least processed. / All shapes and colors are as the camera captured them. / I only cleaned up grain and flash marks. Hope you like it, i really appreciate all comments and fav, even if i don`t reply right away.
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More dew drops on the spider’s web. Alas, the dew drops are courtesy of the water spray bottle, a repeat performance of a previous experiment as seen here I couldn’t resist!
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I’m really sorry but I can’t upload images without watermarks anymore… :-( / Blame it on copycats stealers and abusers! Go here if you’re interested in a print of this image.
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All work posted may not be used, replicated, manipulated, redistributed, or modified without my express consent.
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I’m really sorry but I had to take down the original image. Blame it on copycats stealers and abusers :-( Go here if you’re still interested in a print: http://www.deviantart.com/print/2220706/
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I can’t help but like this one and be drawn to it. I know it’s kind of strange but I thought I’d see what you all thought of it. :)
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A shot of a lady’s mantle with morning dewdrops resting on it :) INFO FOR SOLD!: / Sold a Poster, here on RB, by http://www.redbubble.com/people/thefae]
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I would like to thank Waking Dream- Author: Robert Dye http://www.redbubble.com/people/robartdye/writing/1006181-waking-dream#comment-4176075 These dreams etched within a winding wrinkle, / I wake to feel the fleeting visions faintly linger, / Like the vague crescent white of the moon, / Dissipated against the brilliant blues of day. / So curious to know this other realm of consciousness, / That’s plucked from the branches of reality, / Like leaves slipping away with rushing winds, / Descending into currents of so many wild streams, / Soaking their dried veins, increasingly saturated, / Drowning their bodies into the rough, grainy silt. / The weight of water oppressing once precious, / Fragile blossomed memories of towering trees, / Burying them into the ever deepening, dark mud. / All of these once thriving sprouts of existence, / From deterioration become recycled, regenerated, / To the miniscule shreds of minerals and nutrients, / Which await extraction by other far reaching roots. / While in the slumber of the cold, barren, windblown tree, / I wonder, does it dream and long to be anew, full and free?
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