The photo shoot at Oakland Cemetery went well. I've never been there before, and I was agog at the beauty of it. There were sculptures and a fountain and stained glass windows, bronze urns bigger than me, and beautiful mausoleums fit to make a goth cry.
And the flora! *swoon* There were these huge oak, magnolia, and dogwood trees shading the pathways, and flowers sprouting everywhere perfuming the air. There was also a small, wrought iron gazebo with climbing roses abuzz with bumblebees. Not yellow jackets or wasps, but actual bumblebees--the kind that are as big as my thumb and utterly non-aggressive. We did a few shots in the gazebo and a stray wind knocked one of the bees into my leg; didn't faze the bee or me. He flew off, I smiled for the camera, unstung.
I'm particularly fond of those kinds of bees, actually. They're large and fuzzy enough to trigger my "aww, cute!" proclivities. I've also got an admittedly cavalier attitude about bees and wasps, which occasionally freaks fosteronfilm out, because I've never been stung by one. Pollen collectors and I get along, unlike their blood-drinking brethren, which I kill on sight, as I appear to have a big, blinking neon sign for them which says "Bite Me, I'm YUMMY." Plus, I'm hypersensitive to their various anticoagulants and venoms. 'Course, I have no idea whether I'm allergic to bee and wasp stings . . .
Nevertheless, it's a truism, if I'm outside for long enough, something that I'm allergic to will brush against me, or some blood-thirsty insect will zoom in on me. And, ye verily, I've got the red welt on my calf to prove it. The last shot of the day for me was when we were posing around the base of a magnolia tree with lovely ivy creeping around the ground and trunk, and something bit me. I also somehow managed to get a touch of sunburn on the back of my neck, as did dude_the.* But while I understand how dude_the got sunstruck, as his hair is short and off his neck, I'm a bit perplexed as to how I managed the feat, since my hair is well past my shoulders and I'd brought a parasol. And as much as I could, when I was in direct sunlight, I had the thing up. Weird.
Dean, the photographer, is still sorting through the pix, but got me this one as a sneak peek:
Photo by Dean Ansley
Can't wait to see the rest of them!
* It should go without saying, considering how photosensitive I am, that the parts of me that I could reasonably expect to be exposed to sunlight were liberally coated in industrial-strength, 45 SPF, broad spectrum sunscreen.