Whenever I walk and there is a path or a walkway I have to shoot it. It serves no other purpose than to ground my photos that day. It makes me think of prospective and where I should be pointing the camera. What line will the eye take when someone looks at it? Once I have that all figured out then I can shoot in peace. All the other photos for the rest of the day will be how I want them. If I can not get this simple photo right then nothing will work out, besides I wonder where all of these paths go.
Category Archives: Stories
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.
This place is gone now. I had been going there since the late sixties. My parents took me there for breakfast, I took my kids and eventually I took my grandchildren. The food, the service, and the prices were always right. We sat and talked about family things and of course about the many festivals in town. It was a place where you could pause and appreciate each other. It is part of my journey now as it joins the other things I grew up with and have watched pass into time. Funny, I took the photo knowing it would be added to the list of deleted. It worked too well. Sadly, the city thought it needed a “better” downtown and the Baker Hotel bought out the Manor House during the downtown revitalization project.
The owners have relocated to South Elgin and I go there from time to time but the memories are here. Breakfast as we watched the Fox River, is it high this time or is it low. All the time it just flows past this spot generation to generation. With or without a restaurant to view it from.
Fall is coming to an end as the color abates and hides for the winter. Rain rain replaces the clear crisp days and soon it will also pass and turn to snow. My favorite time of the year will pass and i will get another year older. I am so lucky to have seen so many falls and I long to see many more. Fall is a time for reflection for myself and i often times look very inward. It was a great time to walk around the wooded areas and to see things like this rock. Ugly to a great many people but to me it is just a way God has of showing us another side of beauty. In the last gasps of a season the color still lingers on and takes on new colors and a new deepness for the darks and lights. In the beginning of fall we see yellow trees and actively look for them and at the end of fall we see yellow, if only we will look for it.
The dreaded pumpkins are back. It is not that I don’t like them, I do. I also like pumpkin pie and pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks. I love fall and everything it offers. Now of course , is when the jackets are worn full time outside and there is no getting by in the middle of the day. The pumpkins mean Halloween is on it’s way and I find that dreadful. It ruins the fall for me as it is a day I do not like. As a child I never liked it and I did not see a purpose to it. There was nothing loving about it and all that really happened is damage with soap bars and things that got broken. I did my time getting dressed up and walking the neighborhoods, but I found it much more agreeable to just sit back and watch. I was Zorro one year and another a cowboy, but as I got older it became a ghost or just simple things and all was lost for me. I did not mind taking my siblings around and being the big brother. I just did not want to do it.
I carve pumpkins now because the Grandkids like it and it is enjoyment. To see their faces at what they drew or carved, it worth every minute. I guess the real reason is that it signals the end of my special time. The cold becomes more biting and not as friendly. I will hang on to fall a little longer and try to smile when someone says treat or treat.
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.