I was given a wonderful gift this Christmas.  I hadn't asked for it and wasn't expecting it, so it made the gift all that more special.  It was a macro lens and the first thing I did was go home and attach it to my camera.  I knew that this lens was designed to photograph small things at a very close range, so my initial subjects were all little.  Being that I am a person who loves little knick-knacks and doo-dads, I didn't have any difficulty finding subjects!  It was fun to see how big the lens made these little things look.  
     Eventually the "small made big" format started to become redundant and it finally occurred to me that this was not the only thing the macro lens could do.  I became adventurous taking pictures of pieces of things and tiny portions of even larger subject matter.  The results amazed me.  Pages of a book became silvery thin icicles, the veins of a leaf a roadmap, lace an intricate web of loops and circles.  One day, when the weather was still favorable, I ventured outside to see what the woodpile might offer.  Perhaps there was some piece of wood with textured bark, or the weights we used to keep it covered might have some rust.  As I walked along inspecting the pile my eye landed on some fungi we call "Turkey Tails".  Summer long past, the plant was dead but still attached firmly to its formerly living host.  Since it could no longer find sustenance from the tree, the Turkey Tail had shriveled up.  "Interesting," I thought, "It'll make a great black and white."  So I took some pictures from several different viewpoints but didn't think much about what the final result would really look like.
   Later that evening, after the dishes were washed and the laundry folded I loaded the pictures into the computer.  I was delighted by what I discovered.   Suddenly a world I had barely acknowledged existed was there in all its glorious detail right before my eyes.  The Turkey Tails which had looked shriveled and dead to my naked eye was now a ruffled piece of art.  And just as I'd expected, it made a great black and white.
     We tend to go through life in a familiar routine or pattern.  We get used to seeing things in a similar way.  Because these aspects of our lives are "pre-set", we're surprised when they change.  A friend gets a new haircut, a store moves its inventory around, or something is left out of place and we stumble upon it in the dark and it jolts us out of the "usual".  We become accustomed to following this route because it helps our sometimes chaotic lives appear more steady.  It's not necessarily a bad thing if our lives go this way, but it does keep us from recognizing that there is so much more to see and sometimes those things are not visible to the naked eye.
     Seeing in the macro world involves pointing the lens of our eyes toward the minute details.  It involves expecting to see the unexpected although we may need a little assistance to do so.  But there are great rewards for looking at the world through a macro lens and I've only just begun to do so.
   

     Simplicity is the absence of luxury or showiness and plainness according to the American Heritage College Dictionary.  Yet every time I take a photo to demonstrate the simplicity of something, I am surprised by the complexity of my subject.  Such was the case with this "simple" blade of wild grass which I photographed near my mailbox.  The setting sun illuminated the golden stalk as it made its way boldly through a crack in the pavement.  After loading the picture into my computer I was struck by the detail of the individual strands anchored into the stalk which stood out so clearly against the dark roadway I was tempted to count them!
     We often hear the home-show gurus tell us to simplify our lives; to rid ourselves of clutter and unnecessary belongings which overtake the space we live in.  But the process of simplifying is as complex as the strands on a blade of grass.  My biggest fear when cleansing my world of clutter is that I will throw something out because it has no meaning at present but might become significant when I no longer have it!  Simplifying my life should not be so stressful!
    However as I gaze at the beauty in this single blade of grass I am reminded that simplicity is not so much a process as it is a state of being.  A simplified life is confidence in knowing that one's basic needs have been met and that a roof over one's head, a bowl of soup on the table and a loving family is really all you need in life.  You do not have to pursue what someone else determines as success.  You do not have to possess what someone else determines is fashionable or desirable.  Nature displays that the frenzied striving for material things such as these is counter-productive.  If the flowers bloom in the garden and the birds are able to forage for food, then I can live in a simplified manner such as they do if I set my mind to it.  This will truly release me to enjoy what some call "the simple pleasures" in life.
  While simplicity may remove what is in excess in my life, it does not remove the essence of it.  It is like the blade of grass which appears to be simply a stalk, a few feathery strands and some seeds but becomes far more than that when the sunlight shines through it and my camera snaps a shot.  In the end I must develop the eyes to see it and then to continue to live it and that is hardly simple at all!