Flowers for algernons

Yesterday I went surfing through Blogger-land. Sometimes I like to click the “Next Blog” function for an hour or two and see what I find. I almost always discover great stuff.

It’s been awhile since I played that game. On a good day all it takes is a few clicks to find something wonderful -- great writers or at least great writing -- real people writing well about their lives.

But yesterday was not to be. Two hours clicking and all I got was commercial sites, maudlin family stuff, lonely guys and girls, and porn -- mostly in Portuguese. I don’t know if the blogosphere has changed that much or if I just had bad luck. There are, after all, two gazillion blogs out there. I only touched a hundred or so.

The only interesting thing I found was this photo at this blog which pretty much sums up everything I hate about porn.

I shouldn’t say that was the only interesting thing. Taken as a whole, the maudlin sites are fascinating. One thing I noticed (again) is how people like to take and exhibit photographs of flowers. Chuckling too, is a maudlin type. Chuckling too, takes pictures of flowers. What can you do reader? You are out there on the streets of Brooklyn, a borough world-renowned for its flora, carrying a camera. Do you just walk on by? I try, but I can’t. Just the day before yesterday I took pictures of flowers. I didn’t want to. But I did. Now I am exhibiting them. Just like half a gazillion other maudlin bloggers. I don’t want to do that either. But I am doing it for you reader. I am maudlin for you. But that’s what they all say, eh? All those maudlin people on all those maudlin blogs with all their maudlin flowers.

Although I, like just about everyone else, photograph flowers, I am not a flower photographer. I do not have the necessary equipment -- no professional macro lens, no ring flash, no high-end tripod. If you have all that stuff, it’s really not that difficult to get a fantastic flower pic. The only other thing you need is a light rain, or a mister.

Anyway, so I ‘m out walking in Brooklyn and see this harsh, interesting light behind some flowers. It’s the kind of light few flower photographers will ever see. The kind that breaks all the rules. The harsh light of the mid day summer sun. These are not good flower pics. If you are a flower photographer, turn away now.

And since somehow ugly porn creeped into this innocent little essay on flowers, I’ll show you how real hot sex can be portrayed in the classic mode.The last photo in the slideshow is a birds and the bees pic, which makes me wonder why they call it birds and the bees instead of the bees (or the birds) and the flowers. It’s not like the birds and the bees are fucking each other. Ah, but those flowers, so inviting they are.