What a difference a day makes!

Sunday is a premium day for us. It’s easily worth twice as much to us as any other day of the week in that it’s both a day of rest and a day of worship at our house. We work six and rest one.  Yes, Sunday is an opportunity to break away from our daily routine. In fact, we don’t even pick up a camera on Sunday, which is really hard sometimes, but everyone needs a break. It’s worth the price.,

Out for lunch

Yes, Ella Grace decided to come out for lunch yesterday. Our daughter, Kelly, had been carrying her around inside until just past noon Monday, June 28, when she decided to make her grand entry into the world at 7 pounds, 10 ounces and 20.5 inches long. She is Kelly’s first baby and our fifth grand baby. And what a grand experience it is.

I’m always amazed at newly created life and how it can live immersed in a wet sack for nine months and then come out, breath air, holler, and eat all in a matter of minutes. It’s one of those times when you wish a newborn could articulate that experience in a way that we could understand. What is it like to hear sounds, see light, and have people hover above your face making sounds and crazy faces trying to get a smile or response. Maybe she just wants to climb back inside where it was dark and warm and food was just automatic, “But then Mom always liked going out for lunch, so why shouldn’t I?”

Morning light

It's just one of three maple trees on a neighbor's lawn that I drive past at least once a day, but a couple of days ago, I walked past it at 6:30 in the morning with our dog and of course, a camera. There is just nothing like that early morning backlight to bring out the beauty of a simple maple tree against a background of trees still untouched by the rising sun. Even the trunk and branches take shape as they begin to see the sun.

While the tree looks isolated, there are actually a couple of houses nearby, but I try not to look to see if anyone is watching. Most of them know me as, "that neighbor with the dog who carries a camera with him," and ignore me. But I can deal with that, because in half an hour, the light will change, the tree will be absorbed into obscurity until another sunrise, and I'll be off looking for something else to shoot.

Sacked

There's nothing like a sack race to make you look really foolish at the annual company picnic and be humbled in front of your peers, all in good fun, of course. For some reason kids can do it, but not adults. It doesn't matter if you try to stay on the ground and shuffle your feet to move ahead, or hop like a kangaroo, eventually you fall into a heap wishing you could just hide in the sack and hope no one noticed.

Getting sacked has become a reality for many Americans in the past couple of years. It's a term we use when we want to avoid negatives like "terminated," "fired," or "just let go." I loved one of the headlines today, defense secretary, "Gates says he agrees with Obama decision on McChrystal." Well duh! After the President just fired McChrystal, who would dare disagree with him?

It doesn't matter if you're a four-star general, or a no-star quarterback, we all get sacked at least once in our lives. When it happens, don't hide in a heap. Get up and get going, again!

Exuberance

Who can doubt the exuberance of a child zooming down a slide on a warm summer day. It's hard to understand why sliding through a ten foot tube is fun, but give a child an opportunity and they will go through it over and over again. Maybe they'll try something else, but they always come back to the slide. There's just something magical about sliding through a tube.

Wherever I've traveled in the world, I have always been amazed at the ability of a child to find joy regardless of their situation. They somehow always find something to play with, or to ride, no matter how rich or how poor they might be. As adults, we need to sit back and watch a child, they have so much to teach us.

Summer snowflake

There's nothing like Queen Anne's lace to cool down a hot summer day as long as you imagine it as a delicate summer snowflake. Like winter snow, it seems to be everywhere along the side of the road, in our garden, or in an untended field. From a distance, it looks like any wildflower, but up close you realize what appears to be one large blossom is in fact hundreds or perhaps thousands of tiny blossoms in clusters around the center. In fact, if you look closely, you can make out six sides, just like a snowflake.

Maybe it doesn't take so much imagination, after all.

Too cute!

A southern friend of ours always used the term, "too cute," when something was indeed, too cute. Her long drawl added about forty syllables to the two already there. It's just something that you have to hear. Trying to put it in print just doesn't have the same effect.

Normally, I don't photograph rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks and the like, but this guy was in our lawn this past week eating as fast as he could hoping I wouldn't ruin his dinner with the mower. He obviously didn't know me very well. Once he saw me with camera in hand, he just stood up and gave me his most masculine pose. He even took the time to turn his head just enough for the sun to light up his ears from the back. They were paper thin yet perfectly shaped and poised to catch every sound no matter how slight, even the click of a shutter.

Weekend tools

Okay so a weekend of golf really sounded good until you walked outside and found someone laid out your hidden collection of weekend tools. It seems we always have to have just the right rake, fork, shovel or pick to do a certain job in the yard. Of course, it usually takes most of the day to go somewhere to buy the perfect tool for that day's job.

Eventually, we get to a point in our lives when we have everything we need to get the job done, in fact any job done. The only thing left is the desire to do it, but once it's done, it's beautiful and we wondered why we procrastinated so long.

As for me, the blog is done and I can no longer procrastinate. It's time for me to get started on the weekend chores.

The art of conversation

One reason to carry a camera is so you don't miss people like this. There is just a sparkle about this man that makes you want to sit down and hear what he has to say, his story. He's the kind of guy who hasn't lost the art of conversation in a day of email, text messaging, tweets, and  of course, blogs. He's cool, casual, relaxed and just enjoying himself, along with anyone else who will listen.

If you see him around, tell him I said, "hello."

Sheer beauty

Rose blossoms are so fascinating and especially beautiful when you move in close. Each circle of petals opens slowly exposing the fine edge and a just a little of each petal's surface while leaving what's deep inside a mystery. They remind me of small canyons, waves in the ocean, or perhaps flags blowing freely in the wind.

How about you? What do you think of when you move in close and appreciate the sheer beauty of a rose?

The perfect rose

One of the benefits of shooting in a rose garden with 15,000 plants is that there are millions of blossoms to chose from. Finding the perfect rose is like finding the perfect model among millions of choices. You just keep walking, and keep looking until you find the perfect one.

Roses are beautiful, patient, intricate and always ready to be photographed. They don't care how much time it takes to set up the shot, nor do they care how many pictures you take. Like people, they just want to be noticed and appreciated.

Closed

Yes, closed, but only for a day, Sunday. The week started out slowly, but by the end, we had a stock image order from a new client, presented our work to a solid prospect, finalized the plans and promotional material for our July 10 workshop and won a computer. Yes, we won a computer.

It seems our local printer, Southbury Printing Center, draws a name from all the clients that they did work for during the month, and we won. I feel somewhat guilty about it as the computer costs more than the printing that they did for us, but they insisted. Other than a couple of Rotary Club 50/50 drawings and two baseball caps, we haven't been real lucky with drawings.

All that to say, it has been a good week and we'll be back Monday.

Sign of the time

After spending three hours photographing roses at the Elizabeth Park Rose Garden in Hartford, we drove to the nearest Starbucks in West Hartford for our traditional post-shoot coffee. Although we parked across the street, we just couldn't leave the cameras in the car. So, instead of walking fifty feet to Starbucks, we walked in separate directions, cameras in hand doing our street shooting. Sometimes our paths crossed, and once in a while, we photographed the same thing, but we each saw it differently. It's like two people telling the same story, they both tell it differently.

One thing we did learn, however, the hungrier you are, the more you will photograph people eating, sidewalk restaurants, "Please wait to be seated," signs, and table settings just waiting for customers. It's sort of like going to the grocery store on an empty stomach at dinnertime.

Hot wheels

To some, a lotus is a flower, to others posture, and to car enthusiasts, a very special car. The irony is that it was born in the old stables behind the Railway Hotel in North London, in 1954. Now, it's not only an upscale production sports car, but a very prestigious race car as well.

We have no clue who or where the driver of this one was. We found it parked behind us and next to a public port-o-potty at the century old Elizabeth Park Rose Garden in Hartford, Connecticut. Although there were more than 15,000 plants and 800 varieties of roses in 2.5 acres, the Lotus was a standalone beauty.

Sunset at Murray Pond

There's something about a golden sunset that adds a sense of tranquil closure to any day, no matter how stressful it might have been. At first we squint at the bright sky as the sun approaches the horizon and the reflection in the water overpowers our vision. But once the sun disappears, we begin to feel the magic and appreciate the real beauty of dusk. The western sky takes on a warm glow as the eastern sky turns deep blue. Details in the trees that we missed during the day are highlighted against the dark background and the surface of the water begins to glow as it picks up the warm light from the sky. In a little while, the moon will rise and we will see Murray Pond in a whole new light.

What me worry?

What, me worry?" was the tag line of Alfred E. Neuman, the zany twisted-logic character that made Mad Magazine make sense, sort of, and made us laugh for so many years. But for some people, it's a serious question.

I sat across a table from an elderly Turkish gentlemen at a birthday party a few weeks ago. While we couldn't speak a word of each other's language, I was fascinated by his hands as they methodically moved along a string of worry beads, or "Tespih." There were thirty-three beads in the strand, each bearing the traditional Turkish crescent moon and star, and his fingers methodically moved along the strand touching each bead.

Out of curiosity, I did a little research on worry beads and discovered that as people move their fingers along the beads, they pray. The first time through strand they pray, "Praise be to God," as they touch each bead. The second time through, they pray, "Glory be to God," and the third time, "God is most great."

I spoke a while with his son, a jeweler in Queens, and although I couldn't communicate directly with his father, he spoke volumes in his silence as he focused on his prayers. His commitment was humbling.

Class photo

You would think it would be a no brainer to get a class photo of a photo workshop. Think again. The reason why you see so few pictures of one person in your family is, first, they don't want to photographed, and second, they are usually the one behind the camera.

And so it was with our workshop at the Danbury Railway Museum - everyone was willing to take the "class" picture as long as they didn't have to be in it. Solution, let them photograph themselves in action along with everyone else. We found this wonderful old headlight reflector and had the group do its own self portrait.

Yes, there is a camera in front of each face, but that's how most people see us, so why not capture an image of us that everyone else sees? Who knows, perhaps without a camera, no one would recognize us, anyway.

Look for the gold.

When we arrived at Murray Pond, Joan Levy said, "Look for the gold on the tree growing out of the rocks along the edge of the drive," and as the sun began to set, we saw the gold.
She carefully nurtures every wild flower, every tree, and yes, even the moss on the rocks. There is just so much beauty in this wonderful nature preserve that I feel like I have to take my shoes off to go outside instead of inside. Those who join us for our  workshop July 10, will get to experience it firsthand.