Back to the Garden

Clump #45:  Take Shakespeare books to used book store.

I had been really looking forward to today.  Perhaps my expectations were too high.  I’d signed up for a class in iPhone photography at Longwood Gardens, in Kennet Square, PA, a sublimely beautiful place. Afterward  I would bring my parents’ old, complete set of the works of William Shakespeare to a rare/used book dealer in the same area.


I was afraid the class would be too technical for me, but I was fine … until the end, when I felt very, very stupid. And it was not that everyone else was younger — just more tech-savvy. This was a picture I took with back-lighting:


And this is the same photo with an Instagram feature enhancing the colors.  Pretty cool, almost psychedelic.


These are a few simple things I learned before I crashed into dumbland: first, the volume up button on an iPhone can be used as a camera shutter. Wow!  When you tap the camera icon on the screen to take a photo, you often jiggle the phone a little.  The volume up button tends to be more stable.


Maybe everyone knows this?  I didn’t.  When your phone is trying to focus on a couple of areas on the screen (green squares appear), tap the part of the picture you would like it to focus on.


I knew I could get a very subtle grid on my photo screen by tapping Options, then turning Grid on. Our teacher recommended placing subjects on the four intersecting points where the lines meet, in order to add interest in composition.



I spent my time in Longwood Garden’s Idea Garden, meant for home gardeners.  Longwood is known for more elegant areas, with fountains, formal plantings, and an indoor conservatory — all spectacular…


But vegetables are beautiful, too.


After class I went to see the very nice and knowledgeable book dealer. In essence, he said the books were not in very good condition; that he wouldn’t be interested in buying them.  So, though I got a step closer, the clump wasn’t released.  I felt a little personally rejected along with my books.


I think I need to sit at the children’s table, where life is simpler and hopes are renewed.


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