A manger bed

And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

And, lo, there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round abut them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour which is Christ the Lord. Luke 2:6-11

The world has not been the same since.

On to Bethlehem

And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) And all went to be taxed, everyone into his own city.

And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child. Luke 2:1-5

Tomorrow, the rest of the story that transformed the world.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire

Well not really, but this is where I sit each night waiting for that glimmer of "blogspiration." I could stare at the poinsettia that our friend Nora sends us each year to alert us that Christmas is approaching. She is one of those "one-in-every-class" kinds of people that has everything bought, wrapped and shipped by the first of December. You know the type, the first one to turn in their term paper, and usually the day after it was assigned. They always won the school spelling bees, and in her case the state spelling bees. As for me, I'm usually late with Christmas stuff, my term papers were never done on time and was never allowed to even attend a spelling bee.

I could also stare at the fire for hours, but I know nothing will happen until I open the computer and put my fingers into action on the keyboard. It's the looming presence of Nora's poinsettia reminding me that she would have all of January's blogs already written by now, that is if she had a blog . . . hmmmm, maybe I'm one up on her, finally. But then in her humble ambitious way, she's probably relieved that we moved ahead of her in something.

Yes, everyone could use a "Nora" in their life and no, you can't have ours. Merry Christmas Nora. We love you and thank you for all that you have done for us.

The "big" snow

The forecasts were in, all the TV weathermen agreed we were going to get hit by a monster snowstorm that would break records galore throughout the North Atlantic and New England states. Usually that includes us, but not this time. Yet, people still rushed to the store to buy milk, bread, meat, batteries, fire starter and all the comfort survival stuff.

We waited inside all day Saturday for the snow to start, but nothing came down until I went out to grill on the deck about 8 o'clock, but even then, I had to imagine what a real snowfall looked like. Cancellations were streaming across the bottom of the TV screen all evening in anticipation. Finally by 11 o'clock it looked like a normal snowstorm.

Long Island and the Connecticut coast took the brunt of the accumulation for us and we only got about 9 inches. It was too much to shovel but a good challenge for the snow blower. Together we broke the surface making our own tracks as we trudged up and down the driveway for a couple of hours clearing our way to civilization should the town plow come by to let us out.

We are tucked away on a cul-de-sac along with about 20 other houses. Not a high priority thoroughfare, but then that's one of the reasons we moved here. The simple beauty of the tracks in the snow say so much and is why we carry a camera with us now whenever we go out. While the top couple of inches have since either settled or evaporated, we still have enough for a white Christmas. Who knows, maybe God will even top it off for us Christmas Eve to give us another simply beautiful morning.

The ultimate burrito - cheesecake!

Yup, really, a cheesecake burrito. My kids will tell you that I'm not exactly a burrito connoisseur, but I couldn't help trying this challenge - a money-back guarantee on a cheesecake burrito at Nardelli's. I must admit the money back guarantee was perhaps the biggest incentive as I couldn't think of a worse thing to do to a cheesecake, but wow, was I ever wrong. And, just to be sure, I have tried several in the past couple of weeks in order to get a statistically reliable sample.

I stayed real honest and didn't return it just to get my money back, either. Besides, I haven't found them anywhere else, and I didn't want to risk being cut off, especially since I've already become hopelessly addicted to them.

(Did I mention I have since added dark chocolate sauce? YUM!)

Peace, wish, hope and of course, Starbucks.

Mocha, decaf, regular, brulee, latte, extra hot, whole milk, whipped cream, no matter what boxes are checked for your Starbucks Coffee drink at this time of the year, the message is the same - peace, wish, and hope. But why just have it at Christmas? Get rid of the snowflakes and other seasonal stuff and keep the message going all year.

Somewhere on W. 34th Street in Manhattan

Next time you're in a cab in New York City, take pictures out the cap window. Some people will wonder what you're looking at, but to them, they are just living their lives. In fact, you will remember them longer than they will remember you. It's especially fun on a cold windy day when the wind chill freezes your socks off, like this one was, and you can shoot from the warmth of a taxi. Some people will notice you, like this lady did, and others will not, but either way there is all kinds of communication going on.

It's the gesture in the image that's important. It's just one of those key elements that many photographers ignore, but it's the one that makes you look deeper and longer at the picture.

Thank you folks whoever you are for giving me that extra character dimension.

Search for the perfect Christmas tree

So here I am, saw in hand traipsing into the sunset looking for the perfect Christmas tree. It has to be straight and the needles, ironically, soft.

I still have scars from the brutal needles on last year's killer Christmas tree. Yes, last year we actually went to a local tree farm to buy the tree because it would be fresh, but we saw one standing by the fence that had "recently been cut." We assumed it had been cut in his field that past week only to be told after we paid for it that it had been cut in Pennsylvania in October. Little did we know that the trunk was bent like an old dog's leg, the needles were like raccoon teeth and, as I said yesterday, we finally had to tie it to the rafter to keep it from going over, again.

This year we went to a nearby Christmas tree farm in Southbury, Connecticut, that had just reopened and had been especially kind to us a few years ago. We remembered it had a hill full of fraser firs with those wonderful soft needles that take all the puncture pain out of hanging ornaments. I must admit, though, I was wondering if cutting down a young fir for Christmas was more "green" than buying a plastic artificial tree made with petroleum by-products. I'm sure someone is working on the carbon credit tradeoff between artificial and real Christmas trees.

Christmas decorations

Ok, we've had our first snow, we've started our Christmas shopping, and today we are in New York at Rockefeller Plaza. It's time to climb over the stuff we've been pushing into the attic all year to get to the Christmas decorations in the back.

It's sort of like a refrigerator where all the most recent leftovers are in front and all the science projects are growing in the back. But unlike the refrigerator, the back of the attic is full of forgotten treasures that we haven't seen for a year. It's the old lights, the ornaments, nativity sets, candles, tree trinkets and the Christmas tree stand, that is if it didn't rust through like ours did last year.

Yes, this year we got a new tree stand but a plastic one that hopefully won't rust. Now our only question, will it really only hold an eight foot tree or can I push it to eleven or twelve feet without tying it to the rafter like I did last year? I don't recall having a height specification on a Christmas tree stand before. Think about it, If the tree is straight as an arrow, what difference does it make how tall it is, and if it's crooked, who cares what the specs say, it's going over or it gets tied to the rafter.

Red, white and cold all over

There's something warm and cozy about red cottages on a sunny day in three feet of freshly fallen snow. At least that's what we keep telling ourselves as we brace for the winter ahead. I know it's a mental thing because subzero is still subzero no matter what color the cottages are, but it helps.

Actually, these are the summer staff cabins at Camp Berea near Hebron, New Hampshire, during one of its appropriately named "Deep Freeze" winter weekends. They are cute and look cozy, but they are not winterized like the rest of the cabins. Maybe it's time to replace them with something that will expand the camp's summer and winter capacity. Something newer, bigger and most importantly, warm.

First day of snow

Ok, the 11 o'clock news said we would get an inch or two of snow after midnight which would turn into rain about 4 a.m. In my usual independent four-wheel-drive I-can-do-it mindset, I would have no trouble making my 7 a.m. breakfast meeting an hour away, that is until I got up and looked outside at six inches of snow and no rain.

Just to be sure, I turned on the TV to check the traffic conditions. Interstate 84 was down to one lane to the east of us, but I wasn't going that direction. Next they said there were three accidents to the west, my direction.

While I was up for the challenge to head up the twenty percent grade of our nearly 200 foot unplowed driveway, I was not up for the challenge of highway whackos on the first day of real snow. My only other challenge was to shovel my way to the grill to cook hot dogs for lunch, but then I've had lots of practice doing that and no one gets in my way.

The art of seeing or not

Sometimes when we stop and look at something we've passed over and over again, we see it in a way that we never saw it before. Is it a wall or is it a fence? Are we looking through it or at it? What about its "eyes?" Is it a mirror with blue panels, or are there open spaces between the panels? Is it the face of a comic book monster watching us as we drive by?

Next time you go somewhere, carry a camera and start looking at things you've looked at everyday but in a new way. For example, the back of your favorite diner. You know, the one with all the chrome trim, the genuine naugahyde upholstered booths with those authentic Formica table tops, the counter with the swivel stools, and the mouthwatering displays of every kind of dessert known to mankind.

Our favorite blast-from-the-past is the Blue Colony Diner-Restaurant just off Exit 10 on I-84 in Newtown, Connecticut. Stop in sometime and see for yourself. (The food is really good, too!)

Ed, the incredible illustrator

Here's my friend Ed at Starbucks yesterday morning with The Lady's Home Journal magazine cover he designed and illustrated in retro for August, 1926, featuring American English Channel swimmer, Trudy Ederle. The whole illustration really is incredible, right down to the aged mailing label.

There's a certain sense of irony in our weekly meetings as photographers and illustrators constantly vie to out create and out bid each other, sometimes for the same assignment. Our disciplines are very competitive, yet we admire each other's skills, hold each other accountable, and just as "iron sharpens iron," so we sharpen each other. So, today I photographed Ed, the incredible illustrator with one of his incredible illustrations.

To learn more about Ed, go to my May 9, 2009, blog, visit his website, or go to his blog.

The salesman

I'm sure if you asked him, he would tell you that these same scarves sell for ten times as much on Fifth Avenue. Yes, he was having a really good sales day at the flea market. It was windy and cool. It was kind of like selling umbrellas to people on their way home from work on a day that started sunny and ended up rainy. But then, how could you turn anyone down with a smile like this. Okay, so maybe I wouldn't buy a used car from him, but I would buy a scarf.

Platon smoker

Platon is one of my favorite portrait photographers. He started with Rolling Stones magazine and his wide angle style quickly became his signature. Most recently, his full faced image of Edward Kennedy graced the cover of Newsweek right after the senator died. He simply moves in close, uses one light and a very wide angle lens to overemphasize one characteristic of his subject.

I've used that style for a number of studio portraits and it is really cool, but I also like to use it for some of my street portraits. People think it's a little strange to take their picture looking up from the ground, but it tells a whole different story about a person. It's a whole new perspective that in some way identifies them.

It was a slow day at the flea market and this vendor decided to take a smoke break. He was relaxed and totally preoccupied with his habit. It's a habit he likes and it helps identify him. It's a habit that helped him relax as I just kept shooting. Once the cigarette was done, so was I.

Mr. Magoo, alive and well

You just never know who you will run into at a flea market. We found Mr. Magoo Saturday. We just went from character to character photographing everyone that looked interesting. Some people think it requires some strong anatomical parts to do this kind of work, but in general people are really receptive to it as long as it's done in good fun. Most ask if we are from a newspaper or "sumthin," but once we tell them we're just having fun, they're ok with it.

We know there are a lot of celebrities hiding in the hills of northwestern Connecticut, we just didn't expect to find this one at the flea market. But then, where else would he be?

The great all-American flea market

There's nothing like the great all-American flea market on a Saturday morning. It's a time when a lot of country characters (aka rednecks in some areas of the country) come out of the woods to sell anything from old benches to old wrenches. It's not what one would expect to see in Woodbury, Connecticut, the antique capital of New England, but it has been happening every week for more than twenty years.

All week Woodbury is full of New York designers shopping for antiques for their upscale Manhattan clients and dealers clamber to get their attention, to somehow get them to lay out thousands of dollars for a rare chair, lamp or mirror. But Saturdays are reserved for browsing and bartering among the field of vendors for an equally precious chair, lamp or mirror. Maybe it's not as grandiose or valuable, but it sure is a lot more fun.

Turkey dinner

The way I feel tonight, I think I ate the whole thing. Who knows how big this turkey really was, but I think I ate it all today. It was a great turkey. We cooked it all night, it was really moist and the meat was falling off the bones. So why not eat the whole thing.

Oh wait, maybe it was the apple-cranberry crumb pie, my absolute favorite. Now I remember why it's so important to eat dessert first. After all isn't life all about priorities.

Ronald McDonald

Ya' know it's one thing to see someone dressed up as Ronald McDonald in an ad on television, or some poor fast food employee on a street corner who drew the short straw, but what about a couple of hundred people with no shame dressed in gold and red walking down Broadway Thanksgiving Day underneath a bloated Ronald McDonald. Perhaps they have no choice because they are tied to big Mac and can't get away, or is big Mac tied to them so he doesn't get away.

There is a bright side to this nonsense in that Europe has gone so green that Ronald McDonald has traded in his traditional red for green. Yes, Europe has gone so green that it has switched the all too familiar red for hunter green. Some people will do anything to get into a parade, but as for walking beneath a red or green Big Mac tethered to his feet or body? Well it's all for fun and it really is an honor to walk in the annual Macy's Day Parade.

Macy's Parade

Where else could you see a sixty foot gas filled green frog floating above the street but in New York City on Thanksgiving Day.

Yes, it's time for the annual Macy's Parade, the official Christmas season kickoff. It's the "beginning" of Christmas shopping and of course the day before black Friday. Hundreds of thousands of people come to Manhattan every year for the parade, jamming all the cross streets one block on either side of the parade route. At noon, they all descend on the stores, some to look, a lot to just play, and a few to even buy.

So if you missed the giant Kermit last year, be in Manhattan Thursday morning and join the crowd as they wait for Kermit and his many minion handlers to float down Broadway once again.

Extreme multitasking

It's one thing to talk on the phone while we're doing some other mindless task, or for some talking on the phone is a mindless task, depending on who is on the other end. But how about a "four-fer." This guy could do it all -- eat, drink, talk and walk at the same time. For some walking and chewing gum is a challenge, but not this guy. I just hope he doesn't sneeze.

Do you really believe your eyes?

So, is it concave or convex? Is it a hole or a post? Stare at it for a while and watch it change. Our eyes don't deceive us but our mind has certain preconceived notions about how something should appear and we have to wait for it to kick in gear before we see it change. It's a visual paradigm shift where we normally see or think about something one way and then we shift and see or think about it from a different perspective.

Whether it's an idea or an object, take time to look at it from every side. Yes, step outside the box and look at it with an open mind. Don't be afraid to shift your paradigm from a hole to a post.

The white house

It's one thing to photograph a cool old house but sometimes we have to change its appearance to communicate a message, and that's where Lois comes in. Take out the color of the house and bring in the color of the door and window with a Conte crayon, define the other edges with a pencil, and suddenly we are drawn to the plain door and shuttered window of an otherwise stark dwelling.

The white clapboard siding, tin roof, and funneled downspout add to its simplicity, while the starkness adds to its mystery. I have a feeling this will be the story of many houses in New England this winter as the cold weather sets in and people stay in.

Unlike many, however, we won't let ourselves get trapped inside. We are ready for the snow and will be out shooting every day in order to capture the full beauty of winter. The challenge is to find the color of winter so often characterized as stark and white, yes, much like the house. In the meantime we will enjoy the autumn transition.

Fall 'n apple

Ok, so it's time for me and my fellow "fallen apple" bloggers to get current before the ice and snow hit. Fall has come and gone in Connecticut. October was a blur, a blur of color that is, and now, Thanksgiving is only a week away. We began our fall foliage shoots this year in the north and through the month, moved south as the leaves changed. It was a great year for gold, but then the rains hit and everything fell and turned brown.

We found a new state park, Haystack Mountain, in the north and Weir Farm, a nature preserve for artists in the southwestern part of the state. Haystack Mountain is not a big park but it is beautiful. We could drive most of the way up the mountain and then the peak was only a short hike through the woods. The woods were so striking, we never made it to the top. (Imagine that!!)

During the warm months, the meadows and gardens at Weir Farm are full of artists with easels and oils who painstakingly take an eternity to capture a scene. Personally, I prefer the photography route. It only takes a fraction of a second to capture the same image, and Lois can turn it into a digital painting in the comfort of the studio.

The potter's hands

Sometimes our lives are like a pot on the potter's wheel -- kids, school, work, relationships, family, friends, commitments all spinning and turning as we try to hold ourselves together. But as long as we are in the hands of the master potter, he will work and keep everything under control. As we turn, spin and grow, he shapes us from the inside out. He watches our back, and puts his hand beside us to not only keep us from flying apart, but to give us beauty, form and function.

Fall on the farm

Connecticut is a small state, but a beautiful state, too. It has everything from the highest concentration of expensive homes per acre to working farms, all within an hour of each other. Working farms have become a rarity as the cost of farming goes up and price of produce goes down.

We captured this rural image as we drove through the Connecticut countryside one autumn afternoon. While we enjoy and appreciate the mansions, there is something special about riding through the country, especially in the fall as the trees change from green to gold. It just gives us a feeling of nostalgic Americana.

Gloomy days are the best days . . . for color, that is.

So often we get discouraged on a cloudy, overcast day. But when it come to capturing the softness of a flower blossom, gloomy days are the best. Some of our best work with blossoms has been on days when most people would stay in the studio and wait for the rain to stop and the skies to clear. In fact, on sunny days, we often use a light diffuser to eliminate the shadows and give us the same effect. This day we opted for God's diffuser - clouds.

The potter's house

Go down to the potter's house and I will give you a message. Jer. 18:2

So last week, like Jeremiah, we went to the potter's house, to see what he had made. We wanted to see how he transformed clay from the ground into something beautiful and functional. His pots were like people - different shapes, colors and sizes. Some had handles, some had spouts and some had nothing, but he created each one. Each had its own story and its own personality, and he knew them all.

To catch a glimpse of the potter's personality, it seemed only natural to surround him with the work of his hands. You can tell by the expression on his face, that they brought him joy.

Summer's end?

So here we are at mid-September in New England. It's 60 degrees today, but it could warm up over the weekend. Do we leave the life jackets on the dock ready to grab, or do we hang them up in the boathouse for the year? Maybe, just maybe, there will be a few more days during the month to take out the boats. But, maybe it's time to face reality, pull in the docks, and store all those water toys.

For some, it's time to pack everything up and head south, unless of course you already live in the south where it's warm all year. But then what do you do when you want to ski? You guessed it, head north for the winter.

Simplicity, the essence of elegance

Simplicity is the essence of elegance when it comes to really fine dining. Even a conventional salt and pepper shaker set looks elegant in the right setting, especially when you add a black and white tuxedo to it in the form of a Sardi's menu.

Remember, while perception is everything, it's always good to have a five-star chef on hand for that added touch.

Remember 9/11

Ask anyone over 50, and they can tell you where they were on two specific days in history - the day President Kennedy was assassinated and September 11, 2001. Any adult under 50, of course remembers 9/11. Both were days that changed the course of history for America, but 9/11 changed the course of history for the world. While thousands of many nationalities died that day, many more thousands were saved thanks to the efforts of previously unknown heroes who gave their lives to prevent further tragedy.

While our military and first responders went to work that day knowing they could be in harm's way, others just went to work. Yes, this is a day that we all remember how fortunate we are to live in a free nation and what it cost so many to keep us that way.

Innovation

Product innovation doesn't always mean new products. Sometimes we just need to give an old product to a two year old to figure out a new way to use it. For example, what better way to keep oversized sunglasses from sliding down your nose than to turn them upside down. Sometimes we spend too much time inventing when we could spend more time innovating. Just ask a child.

Sunbeams

September marks the beginning of fall. Leaves that change color first stand out among those that wait to the end. Late afternoon beams of warm-toned sunlight add brilliance to the early changing gold leaves in stark contrast to the green holdouts.

Bright beams of sunlight always seem so dramatic. They represent a supernatural level of energy, motion, a bold new beginning, a burst of power. The source of light is so intense, we can't look directly at it, yet in contrast to darkness, light brings out the color of everything around us. In fact, the smallest amount of light will always penetrate the greatest amount of darkness, but darkness cannot overpower light.

Gates

There's something about a gate that ensures a certain amount of privacy and security. Some gates are made of steel and have barbed wire across the top to discourage intruders. Others are more aesthetically appealling and would barely keep a three year old out. But no matter what the purpose, gates stir our curiosity, define our boundaries, and send a message that sometimes we just want to be alone. You can look, but please don't come into my space until I open the gate.

Big brother

It’s the first day of school and my big brother is off to kindergarten. For three years he has played with me and protected me. He’s been with me through diaper changes, food fights, spankings, sleepless nights and tantrums. He helped me learn to walk and talk. He’s been my translator when no one else could understand what I was saying. He’s my sports hero, my favorite T-ball player, basketball star, football fanatic and NASCAR fan. Now, he’s going to school. Someday, I guess I will, too, but no matter what happens, he will still be my big brother, my hero.

Dad

There’s nothing like dad when it comes to crossing the line. We’ve been told for years not to cross the tracks alone. There are warning lights and gates that we need to heed. It’s not always safe. Crossing can be dangerous. It’s like there’s a new world on the other side that’s waiting to be explored but not until we’re ready.
Finally, the warning lights are off, the gate is up, and we reach for dad’s hand to help us across. It’s the first day of school and Dad is crossing the tracks with me. To a mom and dad, it’s kindergarten and they know how many years of school are ahead. To a five-year old, it’s a rite of passage, and they are only thinking about the next few hours, or perhaps the next few days. Until now, time has been marked by events like morning, lunch, afternoon, supper, bath, bedtime, etc. Now, it will be marked by clocks and bells.
As we grow older, there will be many warning lights and gates to warn us of the dangers of “crossing the tracks.” How well did we learn to watch for them? Will we see them all? Will we heed the warnings? Will someone be there to take our hand and help us across? Who will it be?

Blurred by a bubble

Today our daughter, son-in-law and their two girls are somewhere on top of the earth flying from Hong Kong to Toronto after a six-month employer assignment. While I’ve done the top-of-the-world flights a few times, fifteen hours is fifteen hours no matter how many time zones you go through or from which direction. By the end of the flight, life is a blur because you’ve been in this high speed bubble about fourteen hours too long and like this little boy, no matter how fast you go, it’s still a blur until time catches up. While I don’t envy Troy and Kim as they emerge from the Air Canada bubble with two realllly tired little girls, it will be great to have them back.

But think about it, aren’t we all in a bubble of some kind? How do we deal with it? Do we let it blur our vision or the vision others have of us? Do we keep running faster and faster hoping the bubble will get bigger, or do we try and outrun the bubble hoping it will eventually burst, and we will emerge unharmed on the other side? Are you trapped in a high-speed bubble that just won’t let go? Is time catching up with your bubble? When your bubble finally breaks, will anyone recognize you? Perhaps it’s time to think about the real you.

"Go fish"

To some it’s a card game, to others it’s actually a sport (not me!), and to some it represents fun on a hot summer day. Today is one of those hot days when, like these kids, you just want to get away, forget about your day-to-day responsibilities and activities and go fish. I wouldn’t necessarily advocate catching goldfish in the town fountain, but if that’s all you have, go for it.

Still life

Yes, we do have a studio, backgrounds, lights, gels, everything to setup and photograph great still life images, but what about just walking down the street and looking into shop windows. Watch for high-end clothiers, boutiques, department stores, antique galleries, museums and in this case, a local historical society, just for starters. Each employs designers and artists who specialize in setting up displays, or still lifes, just waiting to be photographed.

As you look at the bottle and jug, which one do you relate to? Is it the clear bottle in front that is so transparent that everyone can see through it or is it the solid jug partially hidden in the background? Are you someone who partially hides behind a transparent person yet plays an integral role in defining their character? Perhaps you’re one of the smaller multipurpose jugs off to the side that keeps to yourself ready to be used when needed.

Ooooookay . . . so now what?

Traffic signs for the most part are intended to be universal. Asians, Europeans, Australians, Latins, and Americans can generally follow road signs regarding speed limits, curves, railroad crossings, one way streets, stop signs, parking, no parking and traffic lights no matter where they are.

I’ve been fortunate enough to have traveled to a number of countries and even to have successfully driven (meaning I’m still alive to talk about it) in many of them, despite my English-only language skills. However, I saw this pair of signs in Connecticut, and I haven’t a clue as to what it means.

The more I think about it, the more I’m beginning to think the dueling arrows are a sign of our times. No one seems to know which direction to go and what they’ll run into when they get there. Some on the right have turned left, and some on the left have turned right. Who or what is in the center dividing us? Are we on a crash course to destruction, or will we eventually just meet in the middle?

Choices

Choice. When God created mankind, He gave us something He gave nothing else in all of creation—freewill—the ability to freely make choices.

When confronted with a decision, we weigh the options and evaluate the consequences. Some choices are easy while others are not. Some consequences are minor and others more serious, perhaps life threatening.

What about where we will spend eternity? People are often flippant about where they will spend eternity as indicated on this purse that we saw at a sidewalk sale, yet because of the freewill that God gave us, we have a choice to make and the consequence of that choice really does last forever.

First responder

No matter how large or small a community may be, each one has a first response team. This fire captain was just standing in front of his engine at his station in New Canaan, CT. No, he’s not a model, he’s a real guy. He’s a typical first responder. He’s a guy who puts his life on the line when our life is over the line.

Gentlemen of leisure

We were photographing in New Canaan, CT, today, one of America’s most quaint upscale communities, when we came across these two cab drivers at the train station. I’m sure they’re very busy during the week as stockbrokers, investors and lawyers get off the train after a hard day in the city and just don’t feel like walking home, but it’s really, really, quiet on Saturday. It’s a day of leisure for most of their regular riders, so why not sit back, relax and maybe shoot some hoops . . . or maybe not.

Father (in-law) time

Last week my father-in-law came for an overnight visit. He’s brilliant in many ways and was always ahead of his time in business and in his dental practice, but now much to his chagrin, time is catching up with him.

His mind is sharper than a tack and he can talk about any topic and does. He loves to reminisce about his childhood, his days in the Army during WWII, his transition from business into dentistry (because as a GI it paid more), his days at Yale, UCONN, and the University of Maryland. We took him to the Yale campus to see his old classroom buildings and his residence hall.

He moved to Panama, the last low cost paradise that takes American dollars, after his 84th birthday last year. In fact, the hat that he has on is a black-market Phillies hat that somehow ended up in a Panama hat shop after an equally astute opportunistic entrepreneur put “Panama” on the brim and the flag on the cap.

He’s got a lot of character to say the least, and his face reflects it.

Dog days of summer

Can’t you just feel it? The days get warmer, the rain stops, and so do we. We’ve been waiting for a summer that just didn’t seem like it would ever come, and then when it did last week, we got like Casper here and stopped for a break.

Actually he was one of those well bred finalists for the local pet parade in Litchfield, CT, during the town’s Fourth of July weekend celebration. It’s one of those towns where everyone and their dog is a pedigree. We just showed up dressed like pedigrees and for a few hours, got away with it.

I pledge . . .

“I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”

Whenever you see a flag on a building, a lightpole, a mailbox, a truck, a bike or in a holiday parade, doesn't it just give you goose bumps? Just like people, some are more worn than others. They all have a story. They all have a life.

Think about it. Think about all the lives that have gone into harm’s way to defend our flag. They pledged their allegiance and meant it.

Grace

What comes to your mind when you think of grace? Does it remind you of God’s mercy for a repentant sinner, or an image of a serene and peaceful landscape? Perhaps it reminds you of a breath of fresh air in an otherwise ugly situation. Maybe it describes a ballet dancer or an ice skater spinning in perfect symmetry or the effortless movements of a gymnast.

Regardless of how you visualize grace, it always brings a sense of peace, order, and tranquility to something. It seems to bring a sense of welcome unreality to unwelcome reality. How about the fern as it unfolds and stretches in perfect symmetry to welcome the warmth of a new season. Dormant during the harsh and cold winter months, it’s one of the first plants to come to life in the warm spring. The perfection of its symmetry is almost unreal in the midst of an imperfect real world. Grace.

Sunlight and shadows

It takes sunlight to make shadows, but here in the Northeast we haven’t had sunlight much in the past couple of months. So instead, we have photographed using “God’s softbox.” Photographers use “softboxes” in the studio to spread light over a subject to eliminate or soften shadows. Clouds and overcast skies are often called “God’s softbox.” After all, clouds diffuse or soften light from the sun to eliminate or soften shadows. In the studio, it’s an accessory that we can control, but in the sky, we have no control.

Direct sunlight helps us see things more clearly, and when we use it as backlight, it helps us see through things to reveal details that we didn’t know existed. But it also causes objects to be defined by the shape of their shadow and doesn’t allow us to see what’s inside.

People are the same way. Some like to be lit directly for all to see. Others are like some of these backlit leaves, transparent for all to see what’s inside. Still other people like to hide in the shadows, some out of fear or insecurity, or perhaps like the leaves, they are all doing the same thing but don’t want the attention that results from being in the light.

New York's finest

New York City really does have a great police force. Its members are always visible and usually alert. However, like many of us, some have a cell phone stuck on their ear and are not always in touch with the moment. But hey, it’s only Times Square, and judging from the arms and shoulders of our wheelchair-bound friend, he could probably blast his way across the street and through the crowd like a fullback on wheels before our finest friends would even notice. And like so many bound to a wheelchair, he probably wants to be as mobile and unnoticed as everyone else.

To me, he’s one of thousands upon thousands of people who pass through Times Square everyday. God only knows who they are, where they are from, how they got there, or where they are going.

Like life, they’re just passing through.