Scenes From a Parade

One small photographic project which I hope to complete this Christmas season is to do a set of photos with the theme, "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas".  The photos will try to capture the common routines and experiences associated with the preparations people make to celebrate Christmas.

This past weekend I photographed the Parks Lighted Christmas Parade as part of a community service activity for our local photography club.  The photo club rents space in the village hall for our meetings, and in return, we like to extend a courtesy to them for housing us.  

Collecting photos from this Christmas parade seemed to coincide with the plans for my project.  Plus, the experience had the potential to inject some Christmas spirit into a guy who can get a bit cynical regarding many of the Christmas "traditions" our society promotes.

Before photographing the parade, I photographed a nearby family who had set a fire pit and some camp chairs on their front lawn to warm themselves in anticipation of the parade.  I asked to take their photo and they welcomed me by offering some hot cider.  The kids were playing and eating toasted marshmallows while the adults visited with one another laughing and simply enjoying each other.  It was my favorite photo and experience of this night. Their attitude seemed to reflect the true spirit of the Thanksgiving and Christmas seasons. 

Soon I began photographing the floats sponsored by the scouts, civic groups, local politicians, and various retail businesses.  Then came every police, fire, and maintenance vehicle the village owns.  If a string of lights could be affixed to it, it qualified as parade worthy.  

Midway through the parade an unadorned sewer services truck appeared as if it were a harbinger to all those who are hosting large Thanksgiving dinners.  It's foreboding presence reminded me of the scene from the movie "Christmas Vacation" when crazy Uncle Eddie and all his family suddenly arrive in a rusty RV during the celebritory lighting of the Griswold's family home. 

Like frames in a movie, the ever passing parade continued featuring dancing snowmen, reindeers, and elves tossing handfuls of candy to the children. Then the high school marching band strutted by playing a holiday medley which put to rest all those thoughts of potential sewage problems during the Thanksgiving feast.  

As normalcy was returning, out of the darkness appeared the coroner's van featuring a huge lighted wreath and bow adorning its front and holiday lights twinkling along its sides.  Perhaps its placement in the parade was intended to signal the parade was ending soon and the big guy in the sleigh (not the big guy carrying the sycthe) would soon appear.  I could only imagine what may have happened if the coroner was needed immediately to make a death confirmation.

As we approach Thanksgiving and the Christmas season, the scenes from this parade present a picture of the joy, bewilderment, and saddness that accompanies the holidays.  My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving for its emphasis on gratitude and simplicity.  I wonder if we enjoy Christmas more because Thanksgiving transforms our hearts and minds to focus on what we have rather than on what we will get?  It's only when we can recognize our own abundance that we can respond with grace and generosity toward others.  Happy Thanksgiving!

         

Remembering Our Veterans

Since today, November 11th, is Veteran's Day, I selected my favorite US Flag photo to honor our veterans. This flag is displayed on the side of a large, repurposed industrial building that stands along the banks of the Rock River.  The flag is a five ton metal sculpture painted with vibrant reds, whites, and blues and is composed of various mechanical parts and hand tools which were artfully assembled and welded together.  The parts and tools were scavenged from the building on which it hangs, a former paper company.  I included the parked cars in the photo to give the viewer a concept of how large this flag (18x36 ft) is compared to its surroundings.

One of the reasons this flag appeals to me is its composition and symbolic statement.  It is distinctly middle class/blue collar in its presentation and construction.  The strength of America is in the welding of these many dissimilar parts to create a common message for future generations and to serve as a reminder to us that the freedom we enjoy today was paid for by those who came before us many who were different from us. We stand gratefully on the shoulders of the veterans and others who walked through darkness.  

Having just concluded one of the ugliest and most divisive elections ever, we need to open our minds to the message of this flag and rediscover together how to artfully and thoughtfully assemble the many dissimilar parts once more. 

 

 "Operator, Can You Help 
   Me Place This Call?"

  If you remember life before cell phones, the sight of a payphone will likely evoke a response and you may even hear the plaintive voice of Jim Croce croon the opening line of "Operator" which was selected as the title for this week's blog.  This relic from the past was encountered while entering a diner this past weekend.  The sight of it aroused my consciousness in the same way as if a glass of ice water was thrown into my face. 

It stirred forgotten memories and emotions surrounding events long forgotten during my high school and college days.  A flood of similar memories flashed back to those who were dining with me that morning.  As we shared our favorite payphone memories, my high school and college aged granddaughters listened with a mix of astonishment and amusement.  They were not phased by this relic and our lively  breakfast conversation reinforced their viewpoint that their parents and grandparents are as ancient as they thought.

I took the photo with my cell phone and converted it to black and white as the wall colors were garish.  For me, memories seem to be best presented in black and white although their substance is really rather gray and faded courtesy of the passing years. The stark contrast of the blacks and whites seemed to capture the shock that this ghost from the past stirred within me when it appeared so unexpectedly.  The window light and shadows organically created an asymmetrical vignette which seemed to add to the distorted feeling of seeing the past and the present collide within this small diner entry.  

The primary function of a payphone is to communicate with someone. Payphones and cameras share that common purpose.  Both primarily initiate one way communication but hold limited value for receiving incoming messages.  (unless you were a bookie)  Upon leaving the diner, I thought about removing the receiver and letting it just dangle before taking a second photo.  I didn't do that because the change would have failed to describe my feelings upon seeing this old payphone and also altered my message to the viewer. To paraphrase the closing line from Croce's 1970s hit single, " but it just wasn't real, and that's not the way it feels." 

 

 Fall's Closing Ceremony

Like a radiant bride walking down the aisle, some moments need no fanfare.  They suddenly appear and I stand in silent awe knowing that I'm grateful to be a part of something that is too big to explain --- so I just enjoy the scene.

 The Objects We Find 

This past week while out with my five year grandson, he found quarter in the parking lot as we were entering the grocery store.  Since he is still in preschool, he didn't know if it was a quarter, dime, or a nickel and had little knowledge of its value as currency.  Currency was of little value to him since he was with grandpa today.  He knew it was shiny, and he was lucky enough to find it and best of all, it was his to keep.  In other words, he liked it for the excitement of finding something on his own and he was beginning to learn about the special joy of finding lost treasures.  

I think that feeling of delight we experience when finding something unexpectedly matures as we grow older.  Perhaps, we even unconsciously cultivate it.   Let's face it guys, how many of us biked through our neighborhood the day before garbage collection seeking what useful cast offs could be imaginatively repurposed.  As adults, how many times have we stopped at an estate sale just to see what might be found there?   Maybe finding a lost item is akin to experiencing a personal act of Providence.  

Sometimes we experience that same feeling when we find a forgotten treasure from our earlier years such as a forgotten toy or simple gift given to us long ago by a close friend or a relative no longer part of our lives.  That item once lost in our memory was found again and now holds new meaning and has even greater value for us.

My photo for the week was taken at Nygren Wetlands while I was photographing egrets.  The experience of finding this feather sliding easily across the water seemed to be like to stumbling upon a lost object.  A difference here is that I did not physically possess the object, but I knew that keeping the feather would have diminished my experience since the feather was in its perfect location drifting along on the smooth surface of the blue water on a sunny October day.  To touch it or try to retrieve it would destroy the mystical quality of my discovery by altering its context and purpose.  

For this lucky photographer, the photo reminded me of how sweet it is to find something lost and how that simple object provides excitement and joy even without possessing it.  Some finds need to be kept, some need to be set aside only to be cherished again, and some need to be left alone.  For me, my image offered a glimpse of how solace and freedom appear naturally standing apart from the many distractions which compete for my attention.  Since photography is truly a one way means of communication, I would be curious to hear if this image speaks to you.

PS   When I first took this photo I knew it had a quality about it that I liked but couldn't quite articulate.  I searched the web exploring the concept of what makes us repond to images.  I discovered a website and a blog by a creative and analytical photographer named Ming Thein.  Below, I will list his website and a reference to parts one and two of his article entitled "Photography and Psychology:   How We View Images"

https://blog.mingthein.com  

https://blog.mingthein.com/2013/10/29/photography-and-psychology-1/

https://blog.mingthein.com/2013/10/31/photography-and-psychology-2/

 

 

 I Saw the Light

Aurora Borealis October 2024

Can you recall a that time in your childhood when you saw Santa at the department store or in your dimly lit living room on Christmas Eve?  It was magical.  You wanted to believe your eyes but could you really trust what you believed you saw?  

That feeling was akin to my first experience seeing the aurora borealis through the viewfinder of my camera this week.  Sure, I have stepped out on the porch looking to see the lights when reporters claimed they were visible here in northern Illinois.  I have also driven through very dark rural areas hoping to see if I could spot them but -- zippo!  When the local weather person said that the lights could be best viewed at 3:30 am or some such ridiculous hour, I decided that it was more fitting with my lifestyle to admire Ed's photos.

My friend Ed invited me to go out at 9:00 PM (which was a reasonable hour) to a local park near the foot bridge overlooking a small lake to photograph the aurora borealis.  Since he has produced many great photos recently, I had every reason to believe that he could help me see this phenomena for the first time, and he delivered on his claim.  Always nice when a plan works.

Life reinforces the idea that if you see it, then you can believe it.  The converse being if you can't see it,  you probably shouldn't believe it or should rationalize that you are not seeing it because you are in the wrong  place or seaching at the wrong time.  As we stood on that bridge in utter darkness, I looked up and I saw nothing.  When Ed got his camera set on the tripod, the colors of red, magenta, and green splashed across his display screen. For me, this was my "Yes, Virginia, there really is a Santa Claus" moment.  Not only were those brilliant skies appearing in his camera, I saw those same magical colors fill my viewfinder also.

What I took away from this experience was:  

• It is good to have trusted friends who push you out of your comfort zone.
• It is important to take that second look with the eyes and also with your mind.
• Sometimes new experiences reunite old friends -- I was reunited with my 11-16 Tokina Lens.
• Know your gear because it is really dark outside.
• The excitement of learning something new never grows old and it gives birth to new ideas.                                   

Some of the photos we take are remembered because the moment was perfect, the subject was cherished, or all the technical aspects united to create a brilliant image.  Then there are those photos that are memorable not for their photographic excellence but because they were a first in serving as an important milestone on your photographic journey.  For me, this is the photo where I peered into a dark night sky -- but for the first time, I saw the light. 

 Make Waves!

Of all the photos that I have taken on and above the waters at the Nygren Wetlands, this photo would likely be one of the least memorable.  Just this week, I have taken beautiful images of water reflections at sunset, blue herons hunting gracefully over the still waters, I even took a photo of an American Bittern that I was lucky enough to catch out in the open near the water's edge.  In a photo contest, any of these images would have been rated more highly than the one I chose to discuss today.    
 
This image was chosen because I have discovered that photography generally consists of images that are engaging/exciting, novel, or visually stimulating for both the viewer and photographer. When creating those kinds of images, the photographer chooses to be the voice of the image by influencing its message in the way that it is captured and processed.  Then there are the times when the image whispers a personal message and the photographer needs to just observe and ponder.  For me, this is such an image.  
 
The photo captures a brief moment when a small frog decided to cross the water's placid surface leaving no trace of his being there but for that brief moment -- a moment I, alone, was priviledged to witness.  Some gentle ripples and a few bubbles on the water were the only fleeting evidence of his being there, and he isn't even visible within the scene which he created. At a future time, perhaps this small frog may rest on a colorful lilly pad to pose for another photographer who will give him his thirty seconds of fame.

Perhaps, I am thinking of this because it is close to the time of year when my father passed away, or perhaps, by some ironic circumstance, these older eyes come to see life with greater acuity than could be seen with younger eyes.  Metaphorically speaking, I believe we each gravitate to our own place in the pond where we come to realize that this is the very place we were meant to be after all these years.  Dad used to say that "some people cross our lives leaving a path for us to follow, while others simply leave the mark of a heel."  Everybody leaves a behind a legacy-- ripples .

In a generation of selfies, it's a gift to find people who will  encourage and shine a light helping others find their way.  Through photography, I have met a lot of wonderful people.  I have also experienced nature in ways which sustain my belief in miracles, and if you listen very carefully, you may even hear a message from a frog.