The Delicate Ones
For the past three years I’ve been immersed in an ongoing project titled The Delicate Ones, a sustained study of spring and summer made in black and white. Working in available light, I return to the same gardens, hedgerows and allotments across the season, photographing at close range to trace petal veining, the architecture of stems, and the moment when bud becomes bloom or fades to seedhead.
The choice of monochrome is deliberate: without the pull of colour, attention moves to form, texture and negative space—the translucency of a petal backlit at noon, the graphite-like shadow of a stamen, the soft blur of motion as a breeze passes. I mix tight macro studies with wider frames that hold plants in their setting, using shallow depth of field to isolate line and contour while keeping a sense of habitat. The series is sequenced to follow growth and decay, pairing images that echo each other’s shapes, and accompanied by brief notes on species and site. At heart, the work is about fragility and resilience, how small structures hold together, briefly, under weather and time.
In fields of gold and petals fair,
Flowers bloom with tender care.
Their colours dance in the sun’s embrace,
A symphony of beauty, a picture of grace.
With fragrant whispers, they softly sigh,
Drawing admirers near, as they pass by.
From dainty buds to blooms so bold,
Their stories of love and life unfold.
Each petal a stroke in nature’s art,
Each bloom a masterpiece, a work of heart.
They speak of joy, of love, of strife,
And in their presence, we find life.
So let us cherish each flower’s sway,
For they brighten our every day.
In their beauty, we find solace and peace,
A reminder of nature’s boundless release.