The Sounds of Christmas

Christmas is the celebration that I most associate with sounds.  July 4th is a visual show spilling the neon colors of fireworks across the night sky. Thanksgiving provides a full day filled with the smell of turkey roasting, oven roast buns warming to a golden brown color, and pumpkin and pecan pies seeping their sweet aroma thoughout the house.  However, what I think about at Christmas is its sounds ranging from the silence after a freshly fallen snow to the sounds of children singing, or a Christmas concert performed by a symphony or chorale.  You can't escape the sound of Christmas music on the car radio, in the stores, clinics, and throughout our favorite Christmas movies.

I have been fortunate enough to enjoy a range of sounds of this season from my attendance at children's school performances,  to the Peter Mayer Christmas concert at a local high school, and culminating with the Rockford Symphony and chorale performance staged within a large, historic, downtown theater.  

My photo this week was taken with my cell phone during the Peter Mayer concert at a local high school.  What I liked about the photo was that it was an unintentional display of the music occurring at that moment.  If I had my camera, I would have been able set a shutter speed fast enough to capture the drum sticks tapping the cymbals.  The photos washed colors added mystery to these ghost like shapes that were being projected on the the adjacent walls away from the main performance occurring at center stage. 

The power of holiday music and sounds remains a mystery to me. I long to hold on to them for just a bit longer, just like those ghost like shapes dancing across the wall.

Merry Christmas All!

 

Winter's Dramatic Entrance

Our winter season began this past weekend with a snowstorm bringing ten inches of snow and elevating the stores' Christmas sales projections and bringing excitement for snowmobile fans and kids who see enormous delight in a blanket of fresh new snow. I enjoy a beautiful new snow as a photographer and as a Midwestern guy. However, I am also a realist, and I know snow will make me long for the return of spring color and seed catalogs inb about ten days. 

I created this photograph a day after the snowstorm when the temperatures plunged to -5. This charcoal like sketch scene depicts the reality of upper Midwestern winter with its void of color and starkness in the landscape. I like the way that the gray overcast winter days make the sky and horizon become one. The telephone poles in the photo remind me of how important connections are for enduring the winter season. My distance from the scene serves to set the tone for the solitude that winter brings. 

The three buildings in the photo captured my attention because the Quonset hut seems nearly besieged by the snow, as the gusting winds blew snow over its sides, nearly covering the top in some places. The farmhouse seems to stand as a fortress resisting the snow and chilling winter winds. My favorite is the barn in the background. It adds some color to a scene where whites and metallic surfaces predominate. I confess to adding just a touch of red to the barn. My motivation was to recognize its role on the farm, suggesting a return to thoughts of plowing, planting, and harvest returning again. For that reason, I added just a touch of red to it, as if this small act of resistance would speed the return of spring.

"Those who sing through the summer must learn to dance in the winter."

Italian Proverb

 That Friday After Thanksgiving

No, I am not the tall green guy!

It is amusing how traditions are born and evolve.  The Friday after Thanksgiving has become understood as "Exterior Illumination Day" for my sons and their families.  The term is borrowed from the movie "Christmas Vacation," featuring the Griswold family, who attempt to navigate their expectations for Christmas with the realities of their family relationships.  The phrase, "You taught me everything I know about exterior illumination", inspired our tradition for this special day after Thanksgiving.

Some thirty years ago, my wife went shopping before Thanksgiving and purchased several boxes of the newest holiday trend, icicle lights, declaring that she would like to see them twinkling on our house for the Christmas season.  Formerly, our exterior holiday decorations consisted of a single wreath hung near the door, which was lit tastefully by a single spotlight.  It took me less than twenty minutes to create the entire holiday display.  I used to feel pretty smug about looking like we had holiday spirit without all that excessive effort others invested in the creation of their elaborate light displays.

Those multiple boxes of icicle lights were a message to me that things were about to change.  Metaphorically, the icicle lights were my Christmas star, although I didn't know it at the time.  I plodded forward by removing the lights from their boxes and attempting to untangle them, then stretching each kinked icicle strand.  My epiphany then was that I should not suffer alone.  Therefore, I mandated my two sons join me as "co-sufferers" in this onerous task on that Friday after Thanksgiving some thirty years ago.

We began our morning with a hot breakfast at the local diner to numb our suspicions that today would be a total waste of our time and hopefully would trend away as a one-and-done affair.  As we hung those icicle lights, we learned about the intricacies of installing cup hooks or gutter clips in subfreezing temps.  We discovered that these tasks require removal of gloves.  No pain, no gain!  We also learned that exterior illumination requires planning for the direction of installing strings of lights so they end near an electrical outlet.  Nothing sucks away the Hallmark moment more than realizing that you must reinstall the lights because they are strung away from the only outdoor outlet.  Together, we learned that Christmas lights carry restrictions regarding how many strings may fit together, and in the process of gaining this knowledge, we also learned it is never wise to craft an extension cord with two male connectors.  Oh, the things we learned during those first years.  In spite of these setbacks, we were encouraged by the way the lights sparkled at night and illuminated our achievements.

Today, we are experts at exterior illumination because it says so on the sweatshirts we wear on that Friday--- Griswold & Sons, Exterior Illumination Experts.  As the years passed, our tradition didn't fade even as our lives changed.  When college took each son away from home, the boys would call before returning home to see what Mom was cooking that Thanksgiving and to check whether we would be putting up the Christmas lights together again.  Their calls helped me understand that this task had transitioned from being just another chore to being something more significant.

I am pleased to report that our "family business" has grown as each of my sons has invited their daughters or sons to join us on this one special Friday after Thanksgiving.  Many more company shirts were ordered, and we now require the diner's largest table for our pre-decorating breakfast.  We still freeze our hands and butts, still laugh about the decorating mistakes we continue to make, and still freely quote lines from the "Christmas Vacation" movie while seeing ourselves embracing the approaching Christmas and one another.

As I reflect on this silly and simple tradition, I stand amazed that what was once a bothersome task evolved to become a celebrated holiday tradition.  It gives me deep pride to see that each of them has embraced the practice of decorating one another's homes, and they continue including me in the process.  I no longer climb the ladder, but I do my best to try not to get my feet entangled in the light cords or step on the bulbs.  The grandkids who joined us over the years remained with us through their high school and into their college years.  They even shunned the lure of Black Friday sales to kick off their holiday season by untangling balls of Christmas lights and hanging those lights in chilling weather as if we knew what we were doing. Like me, they have discovered that the joy and love we crave for the holidays can still be found in a simple and silly holiday tradition that takes place every year on that very special Friday following Thanksgiving. 

 Happy Thanksgiving

This scene can be found on the pulpit in the front of our church.  I photographed it last week while I was there on an errand.  I liked the colors and the classical nature of the subject matter.  I am envious of the people who can arrange objects into a beautiful display.  The scene reminds me of Thanksgiving from another era.

While attending Sunday service, we sang hymns that beckoned back to fall harvest time when our society was mainly agricultural and life was remembered as pastoral.  My mind wandered to a scene where the sounds of the singing were flowing from a rural church where most of the community gathered to sing and be reminded of their gratitude for the seasons and the harvest.  It seemed a bit odd to be singing these hymns, as our lives and circumstances are so very different from the lives of those who sat in this church in 1858.

Our world is complex and unforgiving in ways that our ancestors in the 1850s could never imagine.  In return, we wax nostalgic about their carefree life grounded in the peace of living simply off the land and surrounded by people who are like us and close to us.  We forget that life expectancy was about 40 years and medical assistance was primitive or nonexistent in this area.  An agricultural livelihood was even more risky due to lack of weather science, seed development, pest control, and backbreaking and dangerous farming practices.

What we hold in common, though nearly one hundred fifty years apart, is our gratitude for life, family, and sufficient resources to share with family and those we love.

A Very Happy Thanksgiving!     My favorite holiday of the year.

Full Heart And Full Shelves

I have not written a blog for a couple of weeks due to an attack by the technology dogs.  The initial was a problem with my computer, followed by an update which fouled up my photo processing software.  To me, working with technology is somewhat like walking through an alley surrounded by a pack of hungry, stray dogs.  You can sense their threat and try to conceal your fears because you know that the dogs can sense that fear and will respond with an attack.  With assistance, I have walked that gauntlet and am moving forward.

My photo this week concerns the loss of SNAP benefits due to the government shutdown.  I am fortunate to be able to work weekly at an area food pantry that receives absolutely no government assistance.  We are a small community Food pantry committed to serving a small region within the county. All pantry staff are volunteers.  Most of the people we serve receive SNAP and our pantry supplements those benefits.  Without SNAP benefits our clients are totally dependent upon the local food pantry. Most of our clients fall into one of three classes: 1. elderly poor with fixed income, 2. mentally or physically handicapped who have collapsed under the burden of crushing medical bills, and 3. families in transition where a young mother has been deserted by a husband or the head of the family has lost their job or has been injured and is in need of temporary assistance.  Before the loss of SNAP, we were serving about sixty families weekly. 

I used the word "fortunate" in describing my relationship with the food pantry -- its clients and the volunteers. This week's photo is one among others which have been used as notecards to thank our donors. What brings me joy in volunteering is what I learn about real life from people in my community.  The national news I read brings division, disaster, and dread to my life daily, if I allow it. My pantry experiences are not filtered through a government talking head spewing statistics and political spin about the needs of hungry people.  Being part of the food pantry keeps me in touch with how ordinary people work across their differences to deliver help when needed.  From our clients I see their joy in being able to receive the most basic grocery items that we take for granted.  At least four times this week, I heard our neediest clients tell a volunteer that they could take less if they knew others wouldn't be served.  (I admit this made me feel guilty for wishing I had more when I should be feel grateful for having everything I really need.)  

When I see ordinary people in my community organizing neighborhood food drives and increasing their individual giving I know I have one more reason to be thankful this Thanksgiving ---and to think this joy comes to me weekly just for showing up!

 Why Not Meatloaf?

This photo was taken within the past two weeks.  I like it because placid water makes for great reflections. The bridge introduces a contrasting shape and some deeper tones into the image while the graffiti on the far bridge wall injects a pop of color and an element of unpredictability into a sedate and structured scene.

I took this photo largely because my camera was on the car seat beside me, beckoning me to make it go click.  My urge to push the shutter was like an addict craving a high.  To me, the photo is technically correct, visually pleasing, and unmemorable.  Upon reviewing it, the photo is pleasing to look at but not for very long because it doesn't connect with me on any intellectual or emotional level. It has nothing to say—but I like it, and I confess to also liking plain white bread.

I have come to the conclusion that every photo I shoot does not have to be gallery-worthy, nor does it have to communicate an emotion or message that great photos always do.  Photography is my hobby, not my livelihood.  My photo is representative of what happens between the photographic droughts and the discovery of magical rainbows.  I like this photo for what it is. It represents a comfortable place in my existence as a photographer where I can enjoy using different gear and experience joy while nonchalantly searching for a photo.  Capturing this scene brings me contentment, knowing every photo doesn't need to wow me or solicit others' approval.  

I would have made a hearty meatloaf rather than a fancy Beef Wellington if this were a food blog.

The Hmmm of Street Photography

My photo for this week's blog concerns street photography. The photo was taken at a local farmer's market. I noticed a group of women approaching me carrying fresh flowers while laughing with eachother.  As they grew closer, I hesitated to get a clear shot due to a passerby suddenly crossing in front of the group. This hesitation caused me to be noticed, so I struck up a conversation with them, remarking that they looked like a wedding procession on Main St. They quickly replied that they were on a girl's trip to celebrate the wedding of one of their group next weekend. I asked to take their photo, but the group quickly pushed the bride-to-be to the front where she became my subject for street portrait.

My experience with this soon-to-be wedding party along with my viewing of photographs that others have labeled as street photography, causes me to say, "Hmmm!" My current view is that street photography is a real thing, but I am afraid that much of what is being labeled as street photography is random shooting in search of a meaning.  How many more photos are needed showing a person walking down a street with a nondescript background? Very few of the photos posted on social media under the heading of street photography feature a "critical moment". Few contain any preconceived thought/question from the photographer for the viewer. The concept of street photography is baffling to me because it reminds me of a sleazy politician who proclaims to be all things to all voters. In my mind, it is either something or nothing.

  

This week's photo is an example of that confusion. While many would consider it an example of street photography, I do not. My first attempt to photograph this group of women prior to our conversation may have been an example of street photography. It would have captured the authentic, unscripted joy they were experiencing in the moment against a background of vendors hawking their products. (Kind of a play on the "can't buy me love" concept). Instead, our short conversation changed my photo from an unscripted photo to a posed portrait even though I offered no posing instructions. The presence of my camera tacitly conveyed a message to pose. Consequently, I came away with a nice street portrait of an attractive young woman and her bouquet.

Another concern I hold regarding the practice of street photography relates to the process of photographing people (and especially minors) in public places. One part of my concern deals with ethics regarding the protection of children.  The other part deals with privacy concerns as presented within our current culture which is rife with  distrust of others. Courtesy and transparency help reduce suspicion.  Understanding the current  environment is vital as it relates to our future access to photograph within various venues.

I wish I could tell you what street photography is instead of describing what I believe it is not. In some ways, my thoughts about it may be similar to what former Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart said about pornography, "I cannot describe it, but I know it when I see it." Presently, I view street photography as a huge ball of tangled Christmas lights that need to be untangled before they become components within a meaningful scene.

I will close with a list of characteristics that I believe are present in my definition of street photography. My list is not offered in order of importance nor is it comprehensive. It's emerging.

-Conveys a decisive moment experience (thought/concept) to the viewer

-Treatment  favors realistic rather than idealistic 

-Taken within a public area preferably a street or plaza

-Can be black and white or color reflecting photographer's intent

-Contains people or animals (to me an empty street or Buckingham Fountain is urban landscape) It is the presence of human response within that setting that is key

-Background, setting, and life blend to create a relationship allowing any of those three elements to play the lead role

-Viewers of street photography may need to be more attentive to relationships with the photo to appreciate it's artistry

 Taking a Different Look

This weekend, I had the pleasure of attending one of the few auto shows left this year. As a proud owner of two collector cars, I genuinely appreciate the passion and heartache that come with ownership. These shows resonate with me not only as a car collector but also as a photographer. There’s something exhilarating yet challenging about capturing the essence of an auto show. You really have to adapt to the environment; the layout of the cars, the crowd, the unique signage, and the backgrounds all influence the shots you can take. I’ve learned to embrace tight cropping and to experiment with low and high angles. And when an entire car doesn’t tell a compelling story, I focus on capturing details that spark interest.

It made this visit even more rewarding having my fourteen-year-old grandson by my side. Being a part of the video game and smartphone generation, he views the world through a different lens—literally and figuratively! He’s an amazing kid and his fresh perspective brought a new energy to our outing. I let him take the reins as we meandered through the show, and he had a ton of insightful questions about the older cars. To him, they all seemed ancient—even our 1992 Fox Body Mustang that we drove there!

Following his curiosity led us to cars I might have otherwise overlooked. We stumbled upon a fascinating 1912 electric car with a tiller steering and then to the awe-inspiring "Hillbilly Caddie" that caught his eye. He was fascinated by this quirky Caddie’s stance, with its custom duelly rear wheels and a huge diesel stack sticking out of the fender. I could imagine the Cadillac dealer shaking their head at the modifications, but my grandson was all in. His excitement for those unconventional features opened my eyes to their charm—elements I might have dismissed as odd in the past.

Now, for those who might not know, this Caddie falls into what’s known as the rat rod category. In simple terms, a rat rod is a highly personalized car that prioritizes functionality over flashy looks. It reflects the creativity and thriftiness of its builder, often pieced together from parts spanning several decades of automotive history. Think of them as the creative rebels amid a sea of polished show cars—bringing a sense of fun and individuality to their owners and the spectators alike.

It’s easy to see why my grandson was drawn to this kind of vehicle. It feels like a creation straight from the imagination of a teen—bold, expressive, and utterly unique. Rat rods push back against conventional norms, representing a kind of freedom that resonates not just with teenagers, but with anyone holding on to their youthful spirit.

In all, it was an eye-opening experience for both of us—a wonderful day filled with connection, curiosity, and good old-fashioned admiration for the art of the automobile. I can’t wait for our next adventure and to see what other hidden gems we might uncover together!

If you wish to see other photos taken at this show go to

https://www.flickr.com/photos/minolta102/

 The Doughnut Maker

While too early to pick corn or soybeans, September is prime time to visit a local apple orchard and enjoy the sweet taste of Galas, Goldens, and Red Delicious apples.  For many years it was our family tradition to visit the orchard and ride on a horse drawn wagon to pick a bushel of apples.  After the picking, we would retreat to the apple barn to enjoy a bag of hot apple cider doughnuts which were bathed in a mixture of sugar and cinnamon.   I would be hard pressed to choose whether the aroma of french fries at McDonald's  or the mouth watering fragrance of hot apple cider doughnuts is the most tantalizing.

My photo was taken through a screened window separating the doughnut kitchen from rest at the apple barn.  (Placed there to prevent customers from rushing the doughnut maker, no doubt.)  How mesmerizing it was to watch the hopper sway side to side dropping perfectly formed donut batter into the cooking oil while the newly created doughnuts marched side by side down the cooking line like toy soldiers on parade.  At the mid point the doughnuts perform an about face as they are turned to their opposite side creating that crispy outer layer housing that soft, melt in your mouth center.  This parade goes on all day throughout the weekend dropping out 57 dozen an hour. If only my camera could capture the scent of frying doughnuts along with the image!  Scratch and sniff photos could be the new frontier in photography.

(As a nod to Ms Studebaker, my for English teacher, I have chosen to spell donuts the way she would have embraced.)

 One Final Summer Scene

Milwaukee Harbor

This week's blog photo is the final in the series, Here Comes Summer.  Nothing says summer like the freedom that comes with sailing across a blue lake on a summer breeze. I took this photo about two years ago while attending an event on the shore of Lake Michigan.  What caught my eye at that time was the monchromatic shades of blue that provided a feeling of relaxation, stillness, and tranquility.  The color blue holds mystery because it can convey stillness and peace but can re-appear within the same setting as white capped waves on steel blue swells pushed by stormy blasts.  Pschologically, the color blue can transform our peaceful feelings of relaxation and harmony to their polar opposites triggering thoughts of anxiety and loneliness. 

As I reviewed the five photos selected for this series, I was surprised to note that four of the five featured water. This was a completely an unconscious choice leading me to reflect on my motivation in selecting water as a common feature.  Perhaps I chose it is because water is ever changing in its color and texture depending, and on the sun, clouds, wind, and reflections from objects surrounding it.  Following this thought, I may have chosen water because summer is the season when water displays its full character enticing us to look and dance with it knowing that it will one day stealthfully recede into fall's chilly touches ending our dance but leaving behind warm summer memories.  Old Blue Eyes said it best when he crooned, 

"The boat rides we would take

The moonlight on the lake

The way we danced and hummed our fav'rite song

The things we did last summer

I'll remember all winter long."

Here Comes Summer Series #5

Beginnings and Endings

I am going to create an intermission within my series of summer photos entitled, "Here Comes Summer".  I will share one final photo within that series next week, but for this week. I wish to seize on a more timely topic --- back to school time.  

While summer extends well into September, the headline for these final days of August has been the return of children to school.  As I thought of that topic, I grabbed my camera and visited a nearby elementary school where I captured the photo featured in this week's blog.  Back to school time is truly a ritual (an event representing deeper religious, social, or cultural meaning) mixed with nostalgia and emotion.

The photo above is open to many storylines depending upon each viewer's personal experience. That smile on mom's face may be an expression of the pride she has in preparing her youngest for his first steps into formal education.  The smile may have been an unconscious response prompted by her older children who once were part of this same ritual. It may also be reflective of the time when she recalled the pride that her mother and father felt as she entered kindergarten many years ago.  The red haired boy is ready for kindergarten and is excited to enter a new stage in his life.  As with any new experience, it is good to travel with a bit of home such as a teddy bear to clutch in case the unknown becomes a bit scary.  Brother and sister look on as they welcome him into this annual ritual that includes getting new tennis shoes, art supplies and backpacks.  They are now his older sophisticated caretakers which makes them feel smug about no longer needing the teddy bear. 

As a retired school principal and lifelong parent, I have witnessed and experienced this scene many times during my lifetime.  I fondly regard it as being akin to a sacred ritual taking place in a public space.  The mom who is smiled so encouragingly in the face of her child may return to her car and collapse into tears of satisfaction that she courageously has taken the first step in releasing her child to walk within an unpredictable, larger world as a prelude to adulthood.  That tension between letting go and holding close is the greatest challenge and joy of parenthood.  Here's to parents and the kindergarten class of 2025!

PS  As I wrote this week's blog my heart kept returning to the parents and children at Annunciation Catholic School in Minneapolis.  To say that I will pray for them sounds cliche given how many times people repeat those words as if they are distancing themselves and ready to move on.  But in the face of such horror, all I can manage is, "Oh my God".  Pushing past the horror in this moment, my considered response is to make a consistent effort to resist apathy and personally initiate reponses that show mercy and undeserved kindness to strangers I encounter.  It is not the answer to this stupid violence but is one step I can take to push back at its evil core.

 

 Summer Sandcastles

        History is a child building a sand-castle by the sea, and that child is the whole majesty                

 of man's power in the world.

Heraclitus

This week's photo may be my favorite photo that I have taken in 2025.  This photo was taken mid evening during an intermission at a water ski exhibition. Since I anticipated shooting skiers and power boats skimming across the water, I brought my longest lens, the Nikon 200--500 f5.6.  For the majority of my frames that evening this lens was a perfect choice.  It was during the intermission, when the all activity on the water briefly paused, that I took the best photo that evening.  As I think back on my photography experiences, I am so grateful for the wonderful pictures that came to me when I least expected to see them. There are a multitude of classes and videos that can help you become a better photographer, but there is no way to cultivate serendipty.

When I saw the little girl at the water's edge trying to reconstruct her sandcastle, I was immediately drawn to the solitude and serenity she exhibited as she sifted through the sand for its missing pieces,  Her sunbleached hair and the summer sundress in the soft evening light made her a compelling subject.  The setting sun had turned the water to a golden tone with a few speckled strands of silver dancing through it.  Even before I squeezed the shutter button, I could see the final picture developing in my mind. 

I took two quick snaps of this scene knowing that children do not hold genuine poses for long.  For one shot I zoomed in and other I backed out to bring in more of the scene.   It's the later one that I felt offered the most compelling story.  The story within my mind was not about a little girl but about a child's innocence while exploring a bigger world.  In fact, that was the very reason for choosing the image showing more of the scene and for adding a warm glow filter to soften the child's features and smooth the water.

This photo made me think about the informal process I use to tell a story with a photograph.  Recognizing what is before me even when I may be searching for something else is the first critical step.  Stories sometimes just unfold unexpectedly.  To capture the moment, I took two photos because I didn't know then which option would speak to me more when I reviewed it later.  (Sometimes I don't know what I am seeing at the moment other than my mind prompts me to act on what is happening right now.)  Step two took place in post processing after making the decision on which photo to publish.  At that moment, I began to focus on how to best share my feelings about the image.  To make sure that the viewer would be lead to a similar feeling about the photo, I began to eliminate any elements within the photo that were not necessary and identify which areas to enhance that would strengthen my storyline.  The third and final step was to review the nearly final result to determine whether I had remained consistent to the scene and my feelings about what I viewed as the theme.  I look for additional subtle cues which my viewers may need to understand my story or build a similar story for themselves.

For me, this photo is about exploring our world with childlike innocence.  There is an aloneness in childhood that is critical to their development.  This aloneness is not to be confused with loneliness.  These periods of aloneness allow a child to ponder peacefully the world on their terms and to explore some of mysteries within their environment.  Sandcastles are a magical and imaginative structures to build, but they are not a structures to be remodeled once the waves sweep their pieces back into the waters. However, with a bit more experience and knowledge, newer versions of future sandcastles can be built, but this time with the understanding that they are ephemeral structures to be cherished in the present state before they return to their natural form --- grains of sand on the beach.  This little girl will learn that special joy that comes from building sandcastles which is an activity unlike gathering and collecting seashells. And when the waves once more reclaim the beach it is not perceived as a melancholy experience but a mutual understanding about waves of change that carry us through life making these serendipitous moments exquisite as they welcome us to new places yet to be explored.

Here Comes Summer Series #4

Water, Wind, and Waves

Here is a slice of midwest surfing to showcase summer's energy. The water featured in last week's blog portrayed a soothing view of summer but this week the water portrays a source of summer excitement challenging the body and energizing the spirit.

This week's photo was taken at a local ski event one evening this past week. My challenge in shooting that evening was that the sun was fully setting directly in front of me prompting me to be cautious of blowing up highlights which isn't my preferred style. The sun's position limited the variety of shots I could take. The water's blue tones transformed slowly into golden tones as the sun continued to sink into the horizon. Actually, I was suprised to note how quickly our summer days are growing shorter. Summertime is flying by and the kids will be returning to their schools next week. By 8:00 PM. this evening, daylight was nearly gone signaling that summer's exit is drawing nearer. 

For me, photographing water skiing is all about the splash and motion. To avoid background issues and to minimize highlight blow outs from the intense setting sun, I needed to hold a tight crop on the subject and only photograph the subject using certain camera angles. Because I like to get the athlete's facial expression in any sporting event, the tight cropped shooting fit my style.  Her shades added style.

What scene could better express the essence of summer than jumping across the waves while being chilled by their spray?

Here Comes Summer Series #3

 Soaking Up Summer

Okay, this is not the photograph I expected to share when I wrote last week's blog about the scenes of summer.  This photo doesn't come close to beckoning thoughts of summer favorites like "Surfer Girl" or "Fun, Fun, Fun".  But in a back roads sort of way, it does present itself as the rural response to the summertime favorite "Summer in the City" by the Lovin Spoonful.  These porkers are getting the backs of their necks all "dirty n gritty" while enjoying a fragrant "Summer Breeze" of their own making.

What appeals to me about this photo is that it portrays a viewpoint that is not commonly associated in our typical scenes of summer pleasures.   But look again at that ruddy jowly grin and tell me you can't see satisfaction on a blistering August day.

Did you know that pigs wallow to regulate their temperature and protect themselves from sunburn? For pigs, wallowing in mud is a social behavior that encourages a sense of belonging.  Now, picture with me a crowded California beach packed with beautiful sun tanned bodies who are picnicing while trying to escape the summer's heat.  Urban mimics rural!

While photography is a way to express a point of view, our personal viewpoint may not be exclusive or even the one that resonates with the viewer.  Once a photo is shared,  it takes on a story of its own creation within the viewer's mind.  Sometimes photography can be used to share an alternative view that is not readily noticed even within a similar context --- yes, like the literary children's classic, Charlotte's Web.    

Here Comes Summer Series #2

Those Lazy Hazy Days of Summer

When I think of summer tunes, it's easy for me to name off several that express the essence of summer.    Some of my favorites include Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer, (Nate King Cole) as well as other summer anthems such as Fun, Fun, Fun (and others by the Beach Boys), Summer in the City, (Lovin' Spoonful), Dancing in the Streets (Martha and the Vandellas), Summer Wind, (Sinatra), Summer Breeze, (Seals and Croft), Summertime (Louis Armstrong & Ella Fitzgerald), etc.  My reason for mentioning this music is to inspire me to share photographs capturing the heartbeat of summer during the coming weeks.   I don't want the old man side of me offer any excuses about our Midwest heat and humidity as a cause for not photographing and tasting various summer happenings so I can soak up all the summertime experiences that I need to help me through the grey winter months.

My first installment to a summer series I named, Here Comes Summer was captured about a week ago at the Beloit Art Center's 25th anniversary celebration.  One of the best parts of summer is the street festivals and neighborhood celebrations that bring people together suspending politics, prejudices, and social fears for a brief time to truly embrace our commonality.  

Here Comes Summer Series 1

 About Showing Up 

The scene for this week's blog was taken at a wellness center/ emergency care facility near me. The campus is designed with native prairie plants and water features which are distributed along various walking paths crisscrossing the facility.  For a place whose mission is health and wellness, their design for the exterior aligns well with their work occuring inside the walls.  Just walking from the parking lot to the front doors begins a subtle process of refocusing the mind.

I am starting to write down a set of concepts that I believe are marker buoys for my life. I chose to do this because a guy at my age should be able to articulate their learnings from the good and bad within a lifetime. One of the concepts on my list has to do with showing up. Life is more satisfying and meaningful as I learned to show up and be a particpant.  This means actively showing up to support family and friends as a means of supporting their choices in life.  This can take the form of cheering for the grandkids and other little ones as they run the bases at a baseball game, saying a word encouragement to a teenager experiencing the dumps, or offering congratulations to say "atta boy" when a promotion or milestone is achieved. It can meaning actually showing up to meet with a someone during a time of need not necessarily to commiserate or grieve but just to simply be with them. The point is to be there physically as much as possible.

This week I learned that showing up can also be applied to yourself.  I'm not sure that I understand the trendy terms of mindfulness or meditatation.  I like to think of this experience as finding quiet moments when they occur.  During these moments, I don't think about anything, but I am just there to be still, listen and see.  I just show up.  

This photo was taken at the scene where my quiet moment occurred this week.  At the time, I didn't even consider photographing it.  It was after those quiet moments had passed, I thought about taking the photograph as a way to help me remember this simple part of my very ordinary day. 

Taken with:

13 year old Olympus OMD EM5 and Sigma mft 60mm f2.8.   

Carry Flowers ; Wear a Smile 

Saturday morning I took my Olympus 4/3 camera to the local farmer's market to test my newest lens on it.  While new to me, the camera and lens are used equipment I bought separately on the cheap to use for dabbling in street photography and to tag along with me when I don't want to be loaded down with larger gear.  The little OMD me5 will fit into the pouch of a sweatshirt with the small kit zoom attached.

This is one of my first shots with the Sigma Art 60mm f2.8.  My reason for buying this lens was to supplement the kit zoom lens in taking  portraits and some event photography.  Mounted on the Oly me5,  it has an effective focal reach of 120mm.  Today, it feels a bit long for street photography but it has the ability to capture some scenes discreetly from a modest distance.  Since this was my first outing with it, I need more time to learn whether it is just for portraits or if has a place in the streets as well.

I am a people watcher so I enjoy watching the activities people participate in all around me.  After watching people carrying their various farm market purchases, I came to the conclusion that people who carry flowers also carry a smile on their faces.  The photo chosen this week was a candid taken as she was approaching me.  Her smile as 

fresh and vibrant as the flowers she carried.

 Swimming in the Wake

This week my wife and I celebrated or 50th wedding anniversary with family and friends.  We rented a venue and invited about 55-60 people who share a family history with us.   Although we invited our children to help us plan the celebration, they stealthfully took over all aspects from designing and sending invitations to the final clean up after the event ended.  In short, they largely intended to keep us somewhat removed until the day of the event.  We loved and will forever cherish their efforts!

The day before our party,  I grew anxious as a kid does when anticipating Christmas Day.  To help settle myself, I grabbed my camera and headed to nearby Nygren Wetlands for an hour.  Being alone in nature has a way of emotionally centering me and mentally reorganizing my thoughts into a new perspective.  While at the wetlands, I watched and photographed a momma Mallard and her brood of six ducklings.

When I first spotted them, they were well out of range for a photo so I patiently waited for them as they slowly came nearer.  I'm not a patient person, but I'm learning to be one and I mentally chuckled at the irony of a guy waiting for over one half hour while holding a camera designed to shoot thirty frames per second and to instantaneously focus and track any variety of speedy subjects.  While designed for speed, my gear is a slave to nature's timing.  This is why my spouse and family continue to educate me in the value of waiting patiently for things to come to me.  Photography has helped me put this truth into practice.

As momma Mallard and her crew meandered nearer, her ducklings squirted in and out of the grasses exploring and splashing each other as if playing some variety of duck tag.  Momma casually paddled up the rear some distance behind her ducklings as if this was her time to enjoy some peace.  She seemed to enjoy leisurely eating snacks, but would occasionally abruptly stop and scan her surroundings and check for her rambunctious little quackers.  When they were directly in front of me,  momma gave some sort of secret signal that immediately gathered her little brood about her.  At that point, momma made an about turn and began swimming resolutely in the opposite direction with all her little fuzz balls falling into line as if they were a polished drill team.   

Still thinking about our celebration just hours away,  I thought about those 50 years of marriage and how we traveled together over those many years. I noticed the wake flowing in evering widening ripples behind this little duck family, and I thought about how our marriage was similar to what was unfolding before my eyes.  

How fortunate I have been to love and share a life with a woman who intuitively knows when it is her turn to swim at the point. There have been many times during our 50 years where one or the other of us found comfort swimming behind the other within their wake where life's waters were smoother and the path was clearly marked by the other.  

I am pleased when I see our adult married children also taking turns swimming at the point with their spouses.  It is comforting to know that we are welcome to join within their wake when we experience choppy waters.   

It is exciting to celebrate personal achievements like a 50th wedding anniversary because they mark important milestones in our lives.  These celebrations highlight the good choices made and the commitments made to one another for better or for worse over time.  They are made sweeter by reminding us of the love and graciousness offered by the many others who have permitted us to swim in their wakes when we needed support and direction along life's journey.

 

Now You See It, and Now You Don't!

Photographs help us time travel.  Most of that travel is into the past, but occasionally photos help us travel to the future by helping us see the present moment clearly.  This singular moment acts as a portal to the future by instantaneous-ly uniting the past and present giving entry to the future. 

This week, while having coffee with a friend, I took this week's blog photo with my cell phone.  (Yea the image quality is not great, but I am a guy who buys a phone to use as a phone. If my phone can take an adequate photo that's good, however if it could make morning coffee, mark it sold.)   The gray haired guy sat alone at his table drinking his coffee and reading a print newspaper --- a genuine comic book smelling, smudgy, inky newspaper complete with rustling sounds when the pages are turned!  This scene brought back fond memories while presenting me with a revelation --- how quickly we can unknowingly lose sight of seeing something that was once a common occurrence.

Printed newspapers have silently vanished from our public landscape, and I didn't even notice it.  When was the last time you saw a person in a coffee shop, bus, park bench, or doctor's office reading a newspaper?  I get my news online today --- no more delivery problems, smudged fingers, or guilt about killing trees.  In truth, I miss the smell of a newspaper and I am an advocate of the free press which among our country's population I fear is shrinking.  

If it is printed on paper, there is a implied legitimacy about its content that is lacking online where the content can be removed at the push of a button like it never existed.  Printed news seems to hold potential for public shame for its inaccuracies --- think the headline "Dewey Defeats Truman"!   Today, there seems to be more veiled commentary online posing as the news.  This goes across all media today.  I fear that the abundant commentary is consumed as the news and that we are inclined to let others think about the news for us as opposed to doing it ourself.

Well, it's time to chase some neighborhood kids off my lawn.  Every once in a while the Grumpy Old Photographer in me surfaces and stubbles on to center stage.  Apologies to the audience!

I Wish I Were an Oscar Mayer ...

This past Monday, I attended the Memorial Day Parade in a neighboring community.  The drive to the parade was almost an hour away from my home, but I was not deterred since this parade would display the Oscar Mayer Weinermobile.  When I last saw the Weinermobile, I was ten years old so therefore this day trip was more of a reunion with a pleasant childhood memory.  During my first encounter with the Weinermobile,  I was gifted with the treasured "weinerwhistle" which remains to this day, one my favorite musical instruments second only to the kazoo.   Unfortunately, my parents didn't share my zest for the "weinerwhistle" since it mysteriously disappeared about one week later.  

All I wanted for this Memorial Day was to take a photo of the beloved Weinermobile.  My hope was to relive and reconfirm this happy childhood moment to see if it had any life other than within my memory.  Should the "hotdoggers",  the official title of those who travel in the Weinermobile, toss weinerwhistles or eight packs of hot dogs into the crowd that would be considered a bonus.  

With this in mind, I selected a strategic position behind two old gray haired ladies seated on lawn chairs in the very first row.  Later, this strategic choice would be revealed to be a failed assumption on my part.  Little did I know that their retirement home had substituted speed for their Lipitor on this holiday.  As soon as the parade began, they were up out of their chairs clapping, waving, and pointing out the choicest parade candies to the "youngins" all around them. To my suprise, they were the only folks who remained standing in the front row well after everyone else had returned to their seats.  Nearly forty minutes elapsed before their legs or perhaps the drugs gave way to sitting.  Just about that time, the Weinermobile entered the parade on the next block.  My wish for the day was about to be realized.

I am grateful that I could experience my reunion with the Weinermobile at a parade in rural Illinois in the presence of waving and shouting kids.   My first memory of the Weinermobile lies within the small secure neighborhood of a ten year old who lived during simpler times.  Would the presence of this brightly colored entree on wheels, still excite kids and adults alike who find entertainment only on digital screens?  For me, this photo confirmed that answer.

One of the reasons people love photography is its ability to preserve a memory.  This week's photo wasn't as much about preserving a memory as it was about reconnecting with my childhood once again to confirm that there are still kid like tendencies alive within me --- just like those gray haired ladies who thankfully are seated in front of me.  By taking the photo, I confirmed that I am not as grown up and packaged as I and others may perceive me to be.  

Today, I rediscovered that same feeling of overwhelming delight which I once experienced as a ten year old kid who pedaled his Ranger bike to a nearby supermarket only to encounter the Weinermobile for the first time.  Once again, I discovered that a brightly colored giant 27 foot long hot dog on wheels can still flood my soul with simple joy.  In a world with so many doubts and changes confronting us daily, this enduring connection brings great satisfaction.

What Pushes Your Photographic Buttons?

My blog subject for this week has less to do with the photo I posted and more to do with the person pushing the buttons.  In my last blog I stated that I when I reviewed photos from the past two years, I discovered that I have framed and posted fewer people photos. This caused me to wonder why this is true because I enjoy watching and working with people.  I enjoy meeting new people and hearing their ideas and life stories so I do not believe that I have many hermit tendencies.  

This week I watched a video on the website fstoppers.com. 

Your Personality Might Be Shaping Your Photography,          Here's How 

This article motivated me to further explore why I photograph and share certain subjects more than others,  and how my choice of photographic subjects may be related to my personality.  Fstoppers features video produced by Ben Harvey, where he references a website that contains a free online version of the Meyers/Briggs personality assessment.  He shared how he used his results to better understand how his photography is influenced by his personality traits.   Many years ago I had taken this assessment as part of a training session at work and here again, in retirement,  I took it once again looking for insights into my photography.  My results showed some nuances that have emerged as one proceeds from career to retirement years but basically my personality has remained unchanged --- something that I cannot claim for the size of my jeans during that period.

What this article prompted me to do was take a second look at my people photos, but not limit that look to only those photos which I have framed or posted.  I discovered that I appear to take take a fair amount of people photos, mostly family and friends who are participating in various events and casual settings.  What I discovered through this second review, by use of the results of my personality assessment, is that I do take people pictures but tend not to make many of them public.  Because I tend to be a private person I likely shield my family photos as a reaction to my impulse to protect them (yea, another older generation hang up as opposed to society's frequency in sharing of such on social media).  A second reason for not sharing family/friends photos is that doing so seems a bit boastful.  I'm proud of my family and regard them along with my friends as the greatest treasures in my life.  Many other people's life experiences have not led them to similar feelings.  Consequently, my photos may appear as jaded or even boastful like some Facebook posts and Christmas letters.

When I view photos created by others, I will frequently ask them about their motivation to capture that moment in a certain manner.  How does their photo speak to them?  I never have asked another photographer why they posted or shared a framed photograph.  If I did so, maybe I would discover a bit more about their personality just as I have discovered from my own reflections this past week.

And It's Yesterday Once More

One photography goal I set for this year is to take more photos of people whether they are candids or portraits.  I came to settle on this goal after looking at the photos I have taken over the last two years.  I enjoy being around people and people watching, but I take very few people photos.  Maybe, I have been reluctant to take photos of others because I do not like having my photo taken for unknown reasons.  However, I got a good start on my goal this past weekend when we were invited to our daughter's home prior to attending a theater performance later that evening. 

Several weeks ago, my granddaughter called me after picking out her prom dress telling me about how excited she was about this beautiful dress which she ended up buying even though it was not at all like the dress she was intending to purchase.  She went on to tell me how she was looking forward to celebrating at prom with her friends and a young man who had recently entered her life. As we concluded our conversation, she reminded me to be sure to bring my camera when I came to her house that evening telling me she wanted me to take some photos of her and her date. What she left out of that conversation was the fact that she had invited eight of her friends and their dates to her house before going to the prom.  

As the kids continued to arrive, more requests for photos came from my granddaughter and her friends and also from the parents of her friends. Each of her friends had a phone as did their parents and before we knew it, we were immersed in a full blown photo frenzy.

The photo featured this week offered me a glimpse of what it was like to be sixteen after all these years.  Before any of her friends arrived, I watched her take a short video of herself which brought back personal memories about being sixteen back in the 60s. It's easy to recall the events, the people, and the music, but it is difficult to rediscover how intensely you embraced life at sixteen when each moment can  leave you feeling as if you are suspended somewhere between elation and utter exclusion.   

I noticed that my granddaughter was using her phone to capture a video of a private moment.  During the sixties it was unlikely that any of us would have carried a camera at our side to capture candid moments with our friends.  In that era, the best you may get is an obligatory parent photo or a minute or two of spontaneity in a photobooth at the Walgreens.  Today all teens carry cell phones as though they were a third arm, causing me to wonder if their culture of limitless candids and videos will help them better preserve those moments of intense feelings after they become staid middle aged parents.

My photo was intended to capture my granddaughter's contemplative mood and the emergence of pre-prom "butterflies".  I chose to make the outdoor background black and white while retaining my granddaughter and her phone in color to express what it is to be sixteen when the vibrance and glow of special moments falls only on you and the rest of the world seems unfocused and unimportant.  While I was photographing her friends,  what became apparent to me was the energy and exuberance of being sixteen and facing limitless adventures.  Being with them reminded me of what most of us oldies forget about when we were teens -- those moments of living without a filtered and seasoned perspective thereby experiencing life so adventurously that each moment can potentially take your breath away.   I can't say I miss that 16 year old feeling, but it sure helps me to cherish the love, patience and understanding of my parents and other adults who stood by me during those teen years. 

 Where Does the Border Begin?

Yellow Legs in Black and White

I have been thinking about  the use of borders placed upon an image during post processing.  For most of my photographs, I choose not to use one.  I think that for landscapes, street scenes, portraits, candid photos, wildlife, etc., borders add little to the presentation.  However, every now and then I see a photo where a border brings a feeling of completion to the photo.  What bothers me is that I don't seem to have a particular rule or reason to add a border.

Using this week's photo as an example, the reason that I placed it within a border was to make it stand out from the white background on this page.  This decision had nothing to due with the photo itself but everything to do with where I was intending to display it. "To border or not to border" is a question that doesn't seem to offer any guidelines similar to the way that the rule of thirds or use of leading lines offer to assist in creating a composition.  

Speaking of composition, I have been experimenting a bit by placing subjects in different areas of my compositions disregarding the rule of thirds guideline.  My thought is that sometimes it occasionally works by creating tension for the viewer by drawing their eye through the photo to an unfamiliar place.  There is a hint of that strategy in this week's photo where I intentionally left a greater amount of negative space at the top by using a severe portrait style crop referencing the traditional Eastern Asian scripts that are to be read vertically.  

As further research,  I plan to see if this placement of objects within a frame concept has an application aside from photography.  To do so, I will be placing our tupperware lids away from their corresponding containers just to get feedback from my wife.  Perhaps, it will lead to eating fewer leftovers!