What is your New Year's resolution?

I'm not sure who started the New Year's resolution tradition, as they never seem to last very long. At the top of the list of favorites is spend more time with family and friends, followed by improved fitness, and losing a ton of weight, even though in past years we seem to weigh in at the same amount at the end as we did at the beginning, despite our well-intended efforts. Other people commit to learning a new word every day, quit drinking or smoking, pay off all debts, read a certain number of books, or read through the Bible in a year, take up a new hobby, drive within the speed limit, and on and on. You get the idea.

Now don't get me wrong, I like commitments and goals as much as anyone, but I know the importance of being realistic and honest with ourselves, too. So, if you make a resolution, make it meaningful, measurable, and memorable, not only for yourself, but others around you as well.

Happy New Year, and may it be your most memorable.

Merry Christmas!

One way to get attention in public is to say, "Merry Christmas," especially in response to someone who wishes you a politically correct, "Happy Holidays," for fear of offending someone, or not getting the sale. Perhaps it's even out of fear of being reprimanded, or even fired by their employer. Businesses, city halls and many public squares avoid controversy by not displaying anything in celebration of Christmas, or even Chanukah.

As we were looking for inspiration for our Christmas card this year, we photographed the nearly 300 year old restored Neapolitan Creche at the Abbey of Regina Laudis in Bethlehem, Connecticut. It is believed to have been presented to Victor Amadeus II, King of Sardinia at his coronation in 1720.

When we looked closely at the 68 figures in the 16 foot wide creche, we noticed, like today, many were in awe that they were in the presence of God while others were too busy with their everyday activities to even notice. Some of the faces showed joy, others anger and even contempt because people were making such a big deal about a baby. I guess some things just never change, just times, places and cultures.

It's hard to ignore history and even harder to change it. So, in view of this historical event, we extend to you our warmest Christmas greetings as we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who was born in Bethlehem over 2000 years ago and is with us each day of our lives regardless of where, or who we are.

Tiffany & Co. to the rescue

For the first time in years, our Christmas shopping was done with a week to spare. Fortunately we did the bulk of it on the Internet. While I have the enviable reputation of repeatedly getting the parking place closest to the door of any mall the day before Christmas, it doesn't help fight the crowds inside stampeding for the last wrong sized ugly sweater or the last scented Christmas candle that smells more like a Bethlehem stable than a pine tree.

As I cruised the Internet this afternoon, I found most of the online stores where I shopped have switched from, "Order now and get delivery by Christmas," to "Order your gift card online and have it in time for Christmas." In other words, if you haven't bought it yet, there is no way you will have it by Christmas. Sorry guys.

Oh wait a minute, the cutoff for ordering online and delivery by Christmas from Tiffany & Co. is 3:00 p.m., December 23, and they don't even charge for shipping. So, gentlemen there is still time to avoid the traffic, shop at one of the most prestigious stores in the world, and have your gift delivered for free in time for Christmas. She'll say, "Oh honey you shouldn't have," while you'll be thinking, "You're right I shouldn't have, but at least it was free delivery."

We three kings of orient are . . .

In order to get into the spirit of Christmas this year, we decided to photograph nativities in some of northwestern Connecticut's town squares. We started, of course, at the nativity on  the town green in Bethlehem, Connecticut. Lois took a few shots until she realized I was beginning to have conversations with some of the characters and thought it was time to hide behind the manger until I was done. I mean how often does one get to talk to wise men from the East. Passing cars slowed down to watch and listen, but no one interrupted us.

They told me about the star that they had followed and how far they had traveled to pay homage to the infant king that had long been prophesied and to give him some very valuable gifts. They also told me how king Herod had tried to trick them into telling him where Jesus was as he thought the newborn king would usurp his throne. Fortunately, they caught on, Mary and Joseph took Jesus to Egypt, and the Magi left by a different route to avoid Herod.

Is it any wonder that Lois went behind the stable to wait until we were done with our conversation? I look forward to the day when I will have the opportunity to finish the conversation with the Magi in heaven. But then I have so many questions, it will take an eternity to get them all answered.

A loving tribute

William Whitney Cunningham, Sr., a man whose life was marked by choices and challenges, passed away the day after Thanksgiving this year. To me, he was a friend, advisor and my father-in-law, but to Lois, he was Dad.

As a dentist, Lois's Dad was a perfectionist in his procedures and astute in his business practices. As a teacher at Baltimore School of the Bible, he impacted hundreds, if not thousands, of people around the world. About 50 years ago, he helped launch Congress, an annual evangelical retreat for singles aged 16 and over, at Greenwood Hills Conference Center in Fayetteville, PA. It continues to this day and is still influencing teens and young adults for Jesus Christ long after he stopped being involved.

As a travel agent, he traveled to every continent and more than 130 countries, often at the expense of carriers and hotels seeking his business. I remember when he went to Egypt for a $47, four-day weekend, because it was cheaper than staying home. It was also his first attempt at self-producing a video to entice potential travel clients. Much of it was shot while riding a camel near the pyramids. We politely watched it, but I don't think it sold many tours.

He was a wheeler-dealer, an entrepreneur always ahead of his time, a vintage car collector, and as one nephew describes, "The family's great orator with a phenomenal command of English language, prose, and poems. He ranks along with William F Buckley, with Uncle Billy's heart being a little left of the center."

Another friend said, "My memories of your Dad are of happiest days, and his laughter and fun were contagious."

He was an over achiever who was not always appreciated. It seemed he always had a better, a cheaper, and faster way to do something and could talk anyone else into doing it, whether he pursued it or not. He was never at a loss for words, comments, or opinions. He had plenty and was not shy about sharing them, but doggone it, they were always creative, interesting and often humorous, unless you were the brunt of his ire. If you disagreed with him . . . well, let's just say it wasn't pretty.

He was never one to talk about, or admit, his age. It seems everyone his age was so much "older" than he. For a while, he even stopped "having" birthdays, yet when he turned 80, no one was surprised, just polite. In fact, to celebrate his 80th, he issued a family proclamation that everyone - all 23 children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren - was to go on a free cruise to Bermuda with him. No one had to be asked twice.

He moved to St. Charles, Illinois, near Chicago, this past year to live with Lois' sister, Christie, as his health was rapidly declining. He couldn't see to drive anymore, and he was physically losing strength to diabetes and a weak heart. He joined the local V.F.W. for the first time, rode in the Veterans Day parade, and bought an electric scooter so he could "drive" himself to the nearest Starbucks. Just because he was 87, it didn't mean he had to be old!

Lois had a wonderful conversation with him Monday, just before Thanksgiving, and he was looking forward to gathering with family under the big shade tree on the family homestead at Cuddebackville, New York, to celebrate July 4th next year, an old family custom. Instead, we will gather to spread his ashes and we too, will tell stories about the man who raised my wife and her siblings, and who is known to some as Dad, to others as Poppa Bill ("Grandpa" was an age identifier), and to many as Uncle Bill. He will be missed, but certainly not forgotten.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is the time of year that we celebrate God's bounty to, and protection over our nation, as the Pilgrims did nearly 400 years ago. Just as the master of the vineyard surrounds his prize grapes with a net of protection from outside predators, so are we surrounded by a hedge of protection from our predators. While the media sends a barrage of conflicting political messages about money, military and mismanagement in Washington, we are nevertheless surrounded by a net of protection that no foreign enemy dares to penetrate, at least not for now.

Compared to other nations, we really are a land of plenty, and Thanksgiving is the one day out of the year set aside to commemorate just that. It's a time when families traditionally get together and eat, and eat, and eat. Every family has its favorite turkey recipe that has been passed from generation to generation, even though they only use it twice a year, Thanksgiving and Christmas, and of course each one is the best one ever.

We will justify our gluttony as we will have worked up an appetite going into New York to elbow our way to a front row "seat" for the Macy's Day parade. Others will justify it as preparation to fend off crowds of fellow shoppers on Black Friday. But no matter what our rationale, when we finally push ourselves away from the table we vow to never eat so much again, when in fact, we all know it's just a warm-up for Christmas.

Holiday heat

This past weekend we returned to Art at Murray Pond, in Killingworth, CT, to photograph Joan Levy Hepburn crafting beautiful hand-blown Christmas ornaments in her glass studio. She's a gifted musician, multifaceted artist, and teacher who excels in a variety of mediums, including glass.

Huddled over a custom made configuration of twenty paired propane fueled torch nozzles facing each other, she carefully applies spaghetti-like colored  solid rods of hot glass on top of a bulb of glass that she has just blown from a clear hollow tube. She patiently moves, twists, and spins the ornament to keep the temperature as even as possible while all the time talking around the mouthpiece of the blow hose.

Then, at just the right moment, the talking stops, and her cheeks expand like a jazz trumpeter as she forces air into the open end of the glass tube to give it a little more shape. When the ornament is done, she seals the tube, puts a loop on top, and lets it slowly cool until it's  ready to hang on a tree.

Just like glass, if we get heated too fast, we crack and break and are not pleasant to be around. But if we allow ourselves to evenly respond to the heat and become malleable, then slowly cool down, we become that beautiful masterpiece that everyone wants to be with this holiday season.

Veterans' Day 2011

What was once known as Armistice Day, commemorating the cessation of battle in World War I, has slowly evolved into what we now celebrate each November 11, as Veterans' Day. When President Woodrow Wilson first proclaimed Armistice Day in 1919, he said, "To us in America, the reflections of Armistice Day will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country's service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of the nations."

For veterans, it's a day to remember the good, the bad, and the ugly about serving, the people, places and events. But it's also an opportunity for everyone to remember the cost our freedom and thank those who served along with the families of those who gave their lives while serving. Most came back to live "normal" lives; however, many did not, but they all served.

Many joined the military right after graduation from high school or college. To them it was a mark of patriotism and courage, though not fully understanding the concept of "ultimate sacrifice." It was not always a popular career choice, especially in the sixties, and many veterans were shunned, ignored, or ridiculed by some because they were willing to fight and if necessary, kill or be killed in the interest of peace. Vets in my time were uneasy about including their military service on their resumes as it was considered a red flag in the job market.

Conditions have dramatically changed during the past ten or fifteen years. People who know vets, thank them for their service on many holidays, not just Veterans' Day. Many businesses offer our veterans discounts on major remembrance days, and a couple extend the discounts throughout the rest of the year.

As for me, it was an honor to serve. Thanks to all who served with me. I trust you will be honored today as well.

Ice soccer anyone?

Just over a week ago on Saturday, October 29, 2011, Connecticut was crippled by an early, wet snowfall. Our trees were still full of beautiful yellow and red leaves which unfortunately became weighed down by the snow.

By mid-afternoon, we had lost power and the only sounds we heard were trees and branches cracking and crashing around us under the weight of the wet snow. We were fortunate in that we only lost two large trees along with enough branches to make our front yard look like a field of saplings.

Yes, it was a nuisance, but oh so beautiful. Once we got the maple tree out of our driveway, we could drive around to see the overall impact of the winter storm.

While we love the simplicity and laid back atmosphere of a small town, I’m often amazed at their priorities. I mean, I know soccer is important, but just when the majority of the residents are trying to adjust to life without electricity, the town’s automatic sprinkler system kicked in to keep the playing fields green. Yes, these are the same fields that I blogged about September 15, 2011, when they were under four feet of water, following hurricane Irene. I have to admit, of the two images, this is my favorite.

As for our electricity it came on about an hour ago, eight days and five minutes after it went off. Three minutes later, the First Selectman (Mayor) called asking for our vote in the upcoming election. Hmmmmmmmm.

Free . . . but

This is the time of the year when we our mailboxes are stuffed with gift catalogs, special sales, buy-one-get-one offers, and buy-now-pay-later deals. And how about those telemarketing calls, regardless of whether you are on the do-not-call list, or not? They all look good on the surface, but when you check closer, you find many are really sticking it to you.

Yesterday, I picked up a call from a telemarketer. Because we do get a couple of Skype and MagicJack calls that we don't want to miss, we are not able to screen all calls with caller ID. I wasn't near a computer, so I could not check the caller's website while I was on the phone. The caller was offering a free month of Internet priority advertising in hope of securing our business on a fee paid basis after that. When I Googled the company, later, I found a host of complaints about their business tactics and ethics. It was a "freebut" offer." You know the kind, free now but,"We're going to stick it to you," on your next telephone bill.

I called the company to cancel the "freebut" service, as I was well within my 72-hour cancellation window. I got some names and promises, but overall minimal satisfaction.

I called the phone company and humbly explained the great "freebut" offer and asked how could I stop the billing. She graciously said, "easy," and immediately put a block on any third party billing to our account. It's something new that phone companies are now allowed to do because of so many "freebut" entrepreneurs that are popping up, especially at this time of the year. (I tried to block AT&T's bill, but she politely refused.)

We always told our kids, "If it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is." Where were they when I needed them to repeat it back to me?

Reflections

This past week, I was asked to speak to a breakfast group for three minutes regarding our past ten years in Connecticut. As I began to prepare my remarks, my mind bounced all over the place from tragedy to victory. Thursday, I decided to write down various milestones as they came to mind, hoping it would help me focus. It took most of the day, and yet I had barely scratched the surface. Finally, I boiled it down to a two page outline, focusing on the major high and low points. Even that required ten minutes to get through at speaking speed.

Like the picture, there were some fuzzy areas. There were some ripples, some rough spots, when things weren't very clear to us. We lost both of my parents during that time, represented by the reflection of the two dead tree trunks in the water, and yes, there were many clear blue sky areas, too, including the birth of all five of our grandchildren.

While I go through phases of keeping and not keeping a journal, this was different. I found the reflection exercise therapeutic. So many things weren't clear to me when they were happening, but as I reflected on them, I realize in hindsight how blessed we really were.

Try it sometime. Reflect. Just pick a time frame or a key milestone in your life, find a quiet place, and start writing. Count your blessings as you go. At some point, someone will want to know your story, and you will be ready.

Fall in New England

Every October, we cruise the bi-ways and back-ways in New England chasing the autumn colors. While Columbus Day is the traditional peak for colors, the trees seem to have a mind of their own and will peak whenever they please. Our TV weather personalities show shaded maps every night with areas marked for early color, peak color and past peak. They change earliest in the north and slowly move south toward the coast over the course of a month.

I think this is our week to shoot. The yellows and reds are in and most of the green is out. Perfect! Now, if we can just hold off the rain, we will add a thousand or so images to our fall collection.

Is summer really over?

Which sounds better, the end of summer or the beginning of fall? It's not an abrupt end as many people mark the end of summer with Labor Day, others, September 21 and still others, when the leaves change. If you're like us, you remember the beginning of summer, but where did the rest of it go?

As you who follow our blog may remember, we marked the beginning of summer this year with lobster rolls at Jimmies of Savin Rock. Yesterday, we returned to mark the end of summer with more lobster rolls, beer, and a hot fudge sundae chaser. Jimmies has become our favorite warm weather place to eat when we want to mark a milestone in time, no matter how minor.

I'm not sure how much longer they keep the patio overlooking Long Island Sound open for lunch, but Labor Day is gone, we are into October, and the leaves are beginning to change. The temperatures were in the 80s yesterday, and it was sunny, but we are now supposed to have three days of rain and daytime temperatures in the 50s. I think the Labor Day/color-change segway is over, and fall has arrived.

Let's talk

Pick a seat and talk to me, but not just any seat. Pick the seat of your political persuasion, left or right, then, let’s talk.

The way I see it, we have a two party system and a one party, one term (by his own claim), left wing President. He is at the beck and call of the House minority leader and the Senate majority leader, both of his own party not all of whom support him either.

He made a lot of promises during his first presidential campaign, including openness, total transparency, and changing the way Washington works, along with fixing all the major mistakes of the Administration before him. Now well into his next presidential campaign, we are hearing the same stuff but a little more centrist in order to coddle the independent voters, who ultimately control which way the majority swings.

To be fair, I’m not sure what would have happened if John McCain had won the last election. As a Republican, he would have had to satisfy a Democratic majority in Congress before anything could get done, but then so did President Obama. The left would have been openly critical of anything McCain wanted to do just as the right was openly critical of anything President Obama proposed.

In 2009 a group called the Tea Party Patriots began protesting big government and an ineffective Congress. The grass roots movement was originally split evenly among Democrats and Republicans and now represents the ideals of the right including reduction of big government, less regulation, and more free enterprise.

Most recently we have seen the beginning of the Occupy Wall Street movement, another grass roots protest effort, but this time from the left. Essentially, this group is opposed to big business, wants the rich to pay more taxes, and favors more government control and subsidies to close the gap between rich and poor. It has quickly gone from a grass roots organization to one that the Democrats are claiming ownership.

So pick a chair and talk to me. We have a dysfunctional Congress, an ineffective President, two political parties that are so wrapped up in their own ideologies that they have forgotten the interests of their constituents, and two well organized grass roots movements that are diametrically opposed to each other. Where do we go from here?

Oh, before you sit down, think about which chair you’re choosing. If you pick the chair on the left, who is right? If you pick the one on the right, who is left?

Teamsters

One event that I always look for at a state, or county fair is the horse pull. It's basically a equestrian strength competition that pits teams of work horses against each other to see who can pull a weighted sled fifteen feet. After each pull, a fork lift adds a thousand pounds of solid concrete to the sled and those who made the last cut, pull again until all but one team is eliminated. It's sort of like watching the World's Strongest Man events on TV as men harness themselves to a Boeing 747 and pull it down the runway.

As I watched the horses and their handlers, I was fascinated by their size, their strength, and their focus. They had a mutual respect for each other, and when it was time to perform, everyone knew what to do. Each team of horses would strut to the sled at the command of the handler while a second person would quickly hook the harness to the sled. Instantly the horses would lunge ahead in unison to drag the sled the required fifteen feet. At the end of each round, they would return to their holding area and patiently wait for the next round. Their combined weight was over 3000 pounds, yet the winner dragged 17,000 pounds of concrete across the finish line.

Handlers, trainers, teams, owners and even the audience, were totally focused on the event in the arena. When it came to the pull, everyone was as silent as the gallery at a golf tournament. They were totally focused on the team and the job it had to do. No one moved. No one spoke, or made a noise. No one whistled, cheered, or jeered. They just watched. Once the job was done, everyone applauded.

There is so much for us to learn from these "teamster" workhorses as long as we don't act like the wrong end and think we can do everything ourselves. Then we become that 17,000 ton sled that everyone else on the team has to drag behind them.

Innocence

Imagine the ringmaster introducing, "Galaxy Girl as she performs acrobatics, handstands and aerial gymnastics on top of a flexible pole 120 feet above the ground. Yes ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, Galaxy Girl will take your breath away as she perfectly executes unthinkable stunts on her sway pole with no net, harness or safety apparatus."

The innocence of a child amazes me sometimes. It reminds me of how blissfully unaware a person can be of anything else. As adults we so often have a myriad of things going on in our minds that are more distracting than the event in front of us, but a child can look up and watch a "Galaxy Girl" sway in the air and just enjoy the moment.

As we grow older, I think we yearn more and more for those blissful moments, as brief as they might be. Maybe all we have to do is watch a child.

Up close and personal

It takes a lot of practice, but one thing I love to do is get up close and personal to photograph someone just having a good time.

I saw this lady at the Big E just clapping and singing to the nostalgic sound of a group on an outdoor stage. I sat down in the empty chair next to her, and we chatted for about thirty seconds, until she was comfortable with me. I just told her to stay in her groove, and she did.

The Big E's Jackie the johnitor

On those days when you think you've got the crappiest job in the world, and you just want to scream, think of Jackie the johnitor. She is a ladies room attendant at The Eastern States Exposition, or Big E, a mega-state fair for the six New England states. Normally, I would ignore a "Poop" shirt, and certainly would not photograph it, but her job was to keep the ladies room clean, and what a delight she is.

We chatted for a while as she finished lunch at her post. She was thankful for the job that she had and made the best of it. She had a smile for everyone that went in or out, and it was reflected in her full tip bucket.

As for John the johnitor, he wasn't smiling, and neither was his tip bucket.

Wow!

Monday, we had the opportunity to get up close and personal with a hitch of eight Budweiser Clydesdales at the Eastern States Exposition, or the “Big E,” in West Springfield, Massachusetts. Now, I am not a small person but to me, these horses were huge. Their feet were longer than my size thirteens and twice as wide, but can you imagine what they must look like from stroller height?

Whenever we have one of these rare opportunities, we shoot from all sides and all heights from over our heads and down to our ankles. We photographed their feet, the harnesses, their drivers, the wheels, their noses, and even their bobbed tails. While it may seem like overkill to most people, the results are incredible.

Photographers often develop a level of concentration that seems to bond with the subject as they begin to see nuances and details that no one else sees. From ankle height, behind the hitch, I watched the boy in the stroller until he connected with the massive horse in front of him, and all he could do was say, “Wow!” It was my last shot of the Clydesdales, but it was the best.

Are you ready for some football?

Finally, the 2011 NFL 2011 season kicked off last week! It seems like we’ve been watching ads for it since the Daytona 500, in February. Weekly football pools abound, odds makers publish their numbers midweek and fantasy football teams are almost as important as the real teams. We turn on the television at noon Sunday and watch games from all over the country until 11 p.m. Monday evening, we are glued once again to the game of the week broadcast all over the world, regardless of who is playing. And, of course, everyone "knows" their team will again, or finally, win the Super Bowl at the end of the season.

One thing that amazes me about football fans is that they establish an unbreakable team loyalty early in life, and they remain loyal regardless of where they live now or how the team performs. We live in a regional market whose loyalties are mixed between the New England Patriots, the New York Jets and the New York Giants, but I was raised in Cleveland, so my heart always goes out to the Browns. We also cheer for any team that beats the Pittsburgh Stealers, Cleveland’s biggest rival.

As for Lois, her identity as a Baltimore Colts fan was stolen many years ago when the team packed up in the middle of the night and was trucked to Indianapolis. She will not recognize that act of piracy, and therefore any team that plays the Colts is effectively playing alone, even though they might lose. The only exception is when they play the Pittsburgh Stealers.

What about you? Have you maintained your hometown loyalty, or did it move when you moved?

Never let a good crisis go to waste.

Boys will be boys, especially when it comes to water. While I was out photographing the flash floods last week, I drove past one of our local soccer fields and found these guys having a great time on their newly created lake, while it lasted.

Events like these are often our best memories as we look back on the fun we had when we were kids. Like these boys, we never thought about what might be in the water. All we cared about was making the best of the moment. I mean, how often can one canoe across the neighborhood soccer field?

One man, obviously more responsible than me, called out to them when they were doing backflips off the goalie cage and suggested they get out of the water because of the possibility of bacteria. I told him I couldn’t see any through my lens, so he left. Why let the opportunity for a good memory go to waste?

Kent, Connecticut

Simply elegant is the best way to describe the small northwestern town of Kent, Connecticut. Like so many Litchfield County towns, it's an area where artisans and people of note live who don't want to be noticed. It is also right next to the Appalachian Trail and a common stop for hikers to rest and replenish equipment and supplies before they continue their journey. For one of its fund raisers this year, the town library is selling raffle tickets for a Porsche Boxster. (Note to self: I don't live in Cleveland, or Allentown, anymore.)

Main Street, is pretty much the only street. Old homes are now upscale clothing boutiques, galleries or antique shops, for the most part. There are about three blocks of sidewalk restaurants, delicatessens and coffee shops priced like Manhattan. While they are crowded on the weekends, during the week, locals just sit under the umbrellas and read. Everyone I spoke with was very friendly and enjoyed being photographed, which is unusual.

By the time we finished lunch, we only had an hour left to do a Main Street photowalk. Because we see things differently, Lois went up one side of the street, and I went up the other. After a half hour, we switched sides, and as expected, we each captured images of stuff that the other person never saw. Needless to say, it's a fun place to photograph and just enjoy a peaceful, relaxing afternoon in a town where no one cares who you are, or who you aren't.

Remember 911

September 11, 2001, is one of those dates that most people, especially in the northeast, remember where they were and what they were doing when we were attacked. My dream executive job had been eliminated a month earlier, and I was on my way to an interview when the World Trade Center towers were hit. When I arrived, I learned that daughter of one of the people that I was to meet with, worked in the World Trade Center. Needless to say the interview was cancelled.

Nearly three thousand lives were lost at the Pentagon, the two World Trade Center towers and on United Airlines flight 93 in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. We were under attack, not by a nation, but by a fanatical group of Islamic terrorists.

While we often focus our attention on the planes that flew into the World Trade Center towers and the Pentagon, we need also to remember the untrained instant heroes on flight 93 who overpowered its hijackers enough to divert the plane from its intended target in Washington to crash in a remote Pennsylvania field saving perhaps thousands of lives. 

Almost immediately, American air space was shut down. Every plane was ordered to land at the nearest airport and those enroute to the United States had to turnaround or land outside the U.S. Forty international flights landed in remote Gander, Newfoundland, alone. Air Force fighter planes set up a perimeter around Washington, D.C., and were under orders to shoot down any plane, military or civilian, that failed to respond to communications.

Since then, we have been waging a war on terror, not only outside the United States, but within our own borders as well. My Utmost for His Highest author, Oswald Chambers, said in his devotional message for September 10, “Crises always reveal a person’s true character.” I wonder how many people who gave their lives helping others on 9/11 read those words before they went to bed on 9/10.

In the past day or two, there have been more than forty television specials reliving the events of September 11, ten years ago, and the heroic stories of those who lived and died that day. But we must never forget the more than six thousand of our troops who have died in action fighting terrorism in Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan since then.

I think one of the greatest tributes to those who responded to the call on 9/11 is that when we are in a moment of crisis, when we need a hero to help us in an emergency, we immediately call 911.

Do cats swim?

We had a flash flood race through low-lying areas in Southbury today flooding homes, golf courses, athletic fields and pastures in a matter of hours. Everything was fine this morning when people went to work or school, but at eleven o’clock, calls went out to residents near the river telling them to get out as there was a rush of water coming downriver, fast. When we arrived just after noon, the fire marshal was putting in a call to the power company to cut electricity less than a week after it had been restored. It peaked by one o’clock and by five it had receded from all but a few of the low lying homes.

I can’t imagine what it must have been like for someone to come home after working all day only to find their house filled with mud and silt from a flash flood that came and went in the few hours that they were gone. Residents said it was worse than the floods they had after Tropical Storm Irene. In fact, life for most people affected by high water during Irene had just started to return to normal.

I think these two cat bird baths say it all. They were outside the door of a house filled with a couple of feet of river water, for the second time in less than two weeks, and the third time this year. Like the cats, people must be hanging on by their toes to stay afloat, especially when they live on Flood Bridge Road.

The "uncanny" chair.

Chairs come in all shapes and sizes and are made of every conceivable material known to mankind. Some are designed to never be sat on, and others are designed for us to sit on all day. Some are designed for a specific task, or function, while others just focus on form. And of course, there is that ubiquitous white plastic chair that we find all over the world.

While we all have our favorite chair, there is something special about a rocking chair. A rocking chair is one of those peaceful places that you can go to be alone, to dream, or to get lost in a good book, or in the case of Cracker Barrel Restaurant, make your thirty minute wait for a table more palatable.

We found this rocking chair at our local flea market resting in the middle of a plate. What caught our eye at first was the seat, one end of a tin can. Then we realized someone used the rest of the otherwise useless can to add form by cutting and curling small strips of tin to make the arms, back, legs, and rockers of the chair. It was too large for a dollhouse and too small for a doll, but someone put in a lot of hours shaping it into a chair that had meaning to them.

State of the economy

There is so much that comes to mind every time I look at this picture. Regardless of your political persuasion, unemployment is high, economic growth is low, and Fed Chairman Bernake's solution is to print more money.

I just hope we never get to the point where we need an ATM next to a gumball machine for that afternoon sugar hit.

Power outage, Connecticut style

A week ago, tropical storm Irene blew through the Northeast dumping rain and dropping thousands of trees across power lines. Although the storm lasted less than a day, many areas in Connecticut are still without electricity.

The Red Cross came in and set up several shelters around town. They offered not only their customary emergency services but charging stations for cell phones and Ipods, as well as access to Wi-Fi. Everyone that I talked to was coping well with the loss of power, but it seems they all struggled with the loss of Internet access. It was their connection with the outside world that they missed the most.

We went to the library and the parking lot was packed, not with people looking for books, but instead, an Internet connection. There was a white board outside that had the library's rules for charging mobile devices and hooking up to Wi-Fi. Any restaurant or fast food place was packed with people hooking up to the Internet.

I think our favorite was the overflow crowd outside our local Starbucks on Main Street. The staff inside doubled in size to keep the cappuccinos flowing. No one was concerned about losing power, just connecting with their friends online.

Blast from the past . . . really!

The Experimental Aviation Association's restored B-17 Flying Fortress paid a visit to our local airport this past weekend. It was a rare opportunity to board and walk, or crawl, through one of the greatest airplanes in our military history. It's easy to understand why it was called a flying fortress.

More than 12,000 were built for the U.S. military by Lockheed and Boeing during World War II. The first war production models went from design to completion in less than a year. Each of the four engine prop bombers cost a little more than a quarter of a million dollars to build and their only defense was eight 50 caliber machine guns.

While they were designed to fly for ten hours at a time, they were totally void of any of the comforts that we require for a one hour flight. There was no sound proofing, no insulation, no padded seats, no peanuts, and certainly no room to stretch out or walk around with more than two tons of bombs and thousands of rounds of ammunition on board. In fact, when the bomb bay doors opened to drop its payload, a third of the plane's floor disappeared and you could see the ground 10,000 feet below your feet.

Here is the link to its fall tour schedule. They do charge a small admission fee, but if you are a veteran, it's free. Yes, you can book a half hour flight, but the fee is considerably higher and there is a waiting line, so it must be worth it!

Simplicity

In one of my former business lives, I worked for the director of interior design for a very upscale office furniture manufacturer. While he was passionate about furniture form and function in the work environment, when it came to designing an office space, he always said, “Simplicity is the essence of design.”

I have been out of that industry for twenty- five years now, but his words formed an indelible impression on my mind. And what could be simpler than the shadow of a chair on a floor mat. Upside down, it is only a form, but right side up, it has function.

So often, we work so hard, to make things so perfect, that we destroy the original concept, and the message is lost. It just seems ironic that so many people strive for degrees, titles, accolades, and recognition by others, yet our imaginations are stimulated by the mystery of something as basic as the shadow of a chair. My boss had it right, “Simplicity is the essence of design.”

Jars of clay

They are just clay pots, but like us, each one is different. Some are larger than others. Some are tall and others are not. Some have small mouths and others are more pronounced. Some have a spout to make it easier to pour out their contents. Some have handles to hold while others need to be hugged. Some are cool, and some are warm. It's hard to see inside some of the pots, especially the ones hidden in the back, but they all have scars and markings covered by a glaze. Some we see, and some we don't, but the potter knows them all.

We took a journey to a potter's house one day to photograph him at work. He talked about his pots as if they were his family. He would pick one up and look at it, then he would talk about it. As he spoke, I photographed. Tall, short, round, scarred, warm or cool, he could describe each one. We saw form and function, but he knew their character.

So often we are quick to make judgments and form opinions about people just by looking at them without taking the time to know their character, but like these jars of clay, each one of us is a treasure in the eyes of the master potter.

Opportunity

Summer is an opportunity to stick your toes or your whole body in the surf to cool off. It's the only time of year that you can do it. So find a pool, river, lake, ocean, or air conditioned restaurant and cool off.

Just think, in another month, we will be checking home heating oil prices and looking for firewood to keep us warm this winter. Home improvement stores will be putting gas grills on sale to make room for new models of snow blowers and sporting goods stores will clear out their summer inventories to stock up for winter sports.

If you think of each season as an opportunity to do something you couldn't do six months earlier, your world will be a much happier place.

Free as a butterfly

Comedian George Carlin once said, "The caterpillar does all the work but the butterfly gets all the publicity."

The caterpillar really does get a bad rap in life. He (or she) is that creepy little crawly thing with more than 4000 muscles (man has 629) that we see wiggling through our gardens and eating holes in our plants. As it matures, it builds a cocoon around itself and soon emerges as a beautiful butterfly. It sleeps late and gets up when the sun warms its wings. Its destructive nature of the past is gone, and it now sips nectar from the beautiful plants it sought to destroy before.

As I reflect on the words of George Carlin, I can't help but think of how many varieties of "butterflies" cross our paths every day. No one knows how much work and energy it took to make that butterfly. No one knows how many close calls, the crises and struggles that the caterpillar had during its life.

In the end, all we see is the butterfly. Some draw our attention more than others, but each is beautiful in its own way as it flitters from place to place, stopping occasionally for a little sweet nectar.

Heat wave? What heat wave?

It’s hard to believe that just six months ago the heat index was about a hundred degrees cooler than now, but kids don’t care. Our granddaughter, Halle, is just as comfortable at the beach in July as she was here in January with a couple of feet of snow.

Some people always wish for the opposite season, regardless of the season. When it’s warm, they want it cold, and when it’s cold, they want it warm. Others just keep smiling, no matter what the season. How about you?

Top banana

Did you know that bananas are actually berries of the largest herbal flower in the world? According to the Washington Banana Museum (yes really!), we eat 26 pounds of bananas annually, which really isn't much when you think about it. We peel them from the top down or the bottom up. We make, banana splits, bananas Foster, banana milkshakes, chocolate dipped bananas, frozen bananas, banana bread, and we even slice them for our morning cereal.

People who hang out together begin to look and act like each other, and in fact, they seem so attached that they have a tough time separating themselves from the rest of the bunch. We lose sight of who they really are and how they can be used, their unique qualities are lost in the identity of the group until, that is, someone breaks out of the bunch and becomes top banana.

Superman's point of view

"Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive! Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound! Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superman!" But, did you ever wonder what it was really like from his point of view? I mean how about soaring through the grand canyons of a grand city forty stories above street level? All you can see below are the rooftops of yellow cabs and black limousines.

Now I don’t mind heights as long as they are safe. I’ve gone up in man lifts, planes and cranes to photograph buildings, bridges and dams, but unlike Superman, I’m always attached. The downside of looking from above is losing sight of people. The higher we go, the smaller and more similar they become. We can no longer hear them. In fact, we can barely see them as they scurry from point A to B. We lose sight of their uniqueness, their personalities, their skills, and who they really are.

The same is so often true in life. The higher that people move in their career or social status, the less significant those who helped get them to the top become. Whenever I was lifted or hoisted up high to look down, I always rewarded the person at the controls, the one who got me there. After all, my life was in their hands, and they could make my ride as rough, or as smooth as they wanted too, depending on how I treated them.

I know it takes some of the “super” out of the “man,” but everyone needs a little help getting to the top. Just don’t forget who put you there.

Need a hug?

Did you ever have one of those Judith Viorst, “terrible, horrible, no good very bad days?” One of those days when you just needed a hug, from anybody! Australian, Juan Mann, actually started a free hugs campaign where he stood on a busy street corner in Sydney and offered free hugs to anyone in need. Within fifteen minutes, he was getting hugs from numerous strangers who were going through some really tough times.

Despite his compassion, he was soon banned from public hugging for liability reasons, believe it or not. But the campaign continued to spread. If you are brave enough and have a strong sense of compassion, do it. Just make sure no one walks off with your watch or wallet after a hug or you will need one yourself.

Maybe that’s why Alexander wanted to move to Australia. He heard someone was offering free hugs after a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day.

Madison Avenue shopper

One of the fringe benefits of photographing in New York City is the joy of photographing people totally absorbed in what they are doing, regardless of what is going on around them. But, we also tend to make judgments about who they are, often assuming the worst.

I found this lady on Madison Avenue in midtown Manhattan counting her change outside Hermes of Paris. I photographed her because I thought she was a street person who was out of her element, but when I got home and looked at her more closely, I noticed how impeccably dressed she was and the knuckle-to-knuckle gold ring on her hand. She wasn’t out of her element, she was right at home. In fact, the next place I saw her was a couple of blocks away, outside the Ferrari dealership on Park Avenue.