A south facing picture window frames a winter garden, Saanich Inlet, the Gowland Range and in a few gaps,
the Olympics beyond. It’s a sublime view especially when  clouds blow in from the southwest across the Malahat Hills
and fatten themselves above the Inlet before moving on. Winter rain and snow falls on the sod roof and drips off the edge
of the fascia as it has for years. I'd always looked through the waterdrops to the world beyond oblivious
to the remarkable event occurring over and over right before my eyes.


Shooting icicles in late December. They are irresistible, hanging from the edge of the roof, sparkling in the morning sun
against a deep blue sky. I was setting the focus when a drop fell from the tip of one. It flashed by in stop action
through the viewfinder. I thought I  noticed a thin brief stem connecting the drop to the icicle like an umbilical chord.
After several dozen attempts I caught a drop at the moment of release.



Over the following few days the ice melted away and the roof began to drip like a beaded curtain.

Water molecules draw closer to each other at a surface forming a thin elastic membrane.
Surface tension, (viscosity) allows a pin to float or an insect to skim across it without sinking or even getting wet. 


The same tension holds water before it drops allowing it to stretch like a balloon.

Caught at this stage with a busy sky behind
it has all the appearance of a vase full of clouds.



A waterdrop detaches pulling a thin stem after. The remaining reservoir spirals down inside
filling a spinning sphere. Together they hang for the barest fraction of a second, a liquid pendulum.




As the drop breaks free surface tension momentarily
closes the end of the stem.




Inside, the spiraling drain compresses like a spring.





The stem reopens and a sequence of smaller spherical drops emerge
in a segmented line reminiscent of the body of a dragonfly.




Tiny connecting links, vestiges of the original stem, separate between the chain
forming miniature dense spheres of their own. Plunging through the larger, slower drops
they leave umbrella shaped fountains in their wake.

Like beads on gravitys' invisible string, remnants of the waterstem descend in a delicate dance.
From pure geometric order to random chaos in less than a  second! Each stage of this remarkable event appears,
exists and disappears in the briefest of moments yet repeats over and over again wherever water falls.






When the rainwater stopped dripping I used a hose to soak the roof then ran inside for the shot.
For the first few seconds water gushes in strange twisting shapes
as if from the imagination of the great surrealist, Salvador Dali. 


 


a cup of water poured over a balancing rock with Saanich Inlet beyond




winesap weeping from a fresh cut vine. If you look carefully at a drop forming with the sun on it you will see the blue flash
immediately before it falls. I was able to catch the moment because the sap is slightly denser than water and moves a bit slower.





tears would fall the same
if our heads were bowed
that they could fall away freely
tiny beaded spirals
sparkling in the welling moment






poster from 2004 exhibit
~

The camera is an Olympus C750 digital.  I used manual settings and no flash,
mostly leaning against the inside of the window, patiently shooting drops
as they released from the roof. About 80% of over 2000 images were simply of an empty sky
with a roof line cutting through it. The drop had either gone by already or it hadn't left yet.

A photo editer  was useful for cropping, adjusting the contrast and removing hotspots
from the window but no special filters or precision cut and paste collages are used to alter the drops.
The images appear here as they were taken. Through the bay window, under the grape arbor
or dropping off a balanced rock, these are all handheld shots.


grassland images           art of rockatree  

thoughts and shots: stephen langton goulet

c o n t a c t

all rights reserved
updated November 2009

bouncing water drops

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