Taps is a piece of music that brings a lot to mind. It is peaceful and yet dynamic. It gives us a few moments to think about what we are doing when we hear it. It does not let our mind wonder as the notes play across the field.
We jump when the guns or cannon goes off. It is our job to remember our veterans, to lengthen as long as possible their time of death to the time those of us who live actually forget who they are.
Memorial Day has special meaning to many. Here is the serious face of a small child with his hand over his heart. I could not resist the shot. As a photographer I sometimes exempt myself from the duties of a citizen, like hand over heart and standing at attention. Especially when I see patriotic training and forbearance has taken over and has been taught to our young people. These are the people of the future.
The trees in the backyard are as old as can be and every year they do not disappoint. They bring you back to a time and a place when you are young and the cool air of the season makes everything a little smaller and a little friendlier. When i was younger we moved all of the time so much so that we children (all seven of us) never really owned anything but what we wore. Now I love the idea that I am not moving. I can see the same things and find tradition in what I see. The is a stability, just like the trees. Many times I wish I could live in a small town and to have done the things that small town people do. Their life seems so perfect and although surely they must know every thing their neighbors do. I think that is OK they are then more able to accept anomalies in others lives. I am sure the people who live there do not look at things the same way I do. As we all know the grass always appears greener on the other side of the fence. Tonight I can smell wood burning from someones fireplace as it wafts into my room. It reminds me of a separate life when I lived in New England. There is one smell I miss and it has been outlawed by all the people who know better, the leaves burning in the curb.
Can you see the Red? Does it get your attention and make you wonder what is going on? Delnor Park in St Charles is an unbelievable place to see all of this in great peacefulness. I know photographers who have made red their entire career. I have not chased the color, just saw it and thought it was a a worthwhile endeavor to to capture it. I really would like and have chased Cardinals. That is a photo I would like for my collections.
There was a time this old boat was proud and glorious as it floated across the water carrying people with poles and oars. As you walk past it you can hear the laughing of the people who once enjoyed it. The quiet times it bobbed up and down with water lapping its side while fisherman waited with baited patience for something to jump their line.
Now it floats in a different way. Along side of a large pond as a beach decoration. No longer is it seaworthy, but still able to to produce enjoyment for onlookers. You can not walk past it with out noticing it. How strong it still is, how beautiful not just wood and remains, but glory and honor filled with pride of the long service it had to people wanting to do something, to go for a quiet ride on a foggy fall morning. It is not just an old boat but instead a view to the past and where we can go.
Fall or autumn has officially entered my heart. I will get out more and willfully take cold air into my lungs. Being born in the fall has its benefits for a person like me. Everything I like happens at this time. Leaves turning gold and red, rustling, all around. Noise underfoot, my field jacket from Lands End, drinking coffee on the veranda in the remnants of the evening. I am not much of a Halloween fan, but the grandkids are and they will run from door to door to get the goodies, they will only partially eat. It is the hunt that is important not the goody you get. Then the long haul to Thanksgiving and finally that weekend something will end fall for me. It used to be Marshall Fields (boy do I miss that place) holiday specials but now I must rely on the St. Charles Electric Light Parade.
The mood is different for me in the fall It calls upon me to be happier and to get more things done. I can see things that I can not see at the other times of the year. People will tell you that I get a little darker but I actually think I just get a little deeper than in “Normal” time. It is true I was born in November so perhaps I am a little more likened to the time because it is my birth time. Who really knows, I do like the fact that my grandson finds the time to enjoy the season also. No, he is not helping to pile the leaves, he is playing in them and is building a bigger pile to jump into. I remember when I was his age and my kindergarten teacher took us out for a fall walk around Washington School in Champaign, Illinois. The park seemed like a large forest at the time and I remember her telling us to kick the leaves as we walked so we could hear what the leaves have to say. I still kick the leaves to this day. I also stop and let the trees talk to me. Sometimes they tell me what and where to take the photographs that I want to capture.