Two years ago, this planter box appeared along the sidewalk at a nearby school. Shortly thereafter, stalks of corn emerged from the soil within and became one of my favorite places to stop and pause during strolls in the neighborhood.
The lyrics/poetry of Leonard Cohen were scrawled on the front of the box back then and slowly faded to a point of being barely discernable…until recently, that is. Once again, the box springs forth with inspiration for anyone who cares to stop and read as they walk on by.
ring the bells that still can ring
forget your perfect offering
there is a crack in everything
that’s how the light gets in
– Leonard Cohen
A Halloween tip: When out on the street at night, it’s always good to look up from time to time. You never know if an adorable ghoul is looking at you from above. Happy trick-or-treat day!
It’s a picture perfect sunny afternoon in San Francisco. The chill of off-shore fog is seasoning the breeze, though nary a cloud is visible on this side of Twin Peaks. Birds are chirping and my feet are bare.
So why, on earth, do I have this photograph – taken on a sub-freezing afternoon during a walk in southern Germany – on my mind?
The December light was perfect. The chill through my body, anything but. It was one of those moments that made removing my gloved hands from my pockets so worthwhile. The gloves came off, and my bare hands met the winter air and the metal body of my camera. In mere seconds, focus, frame, and *click*. Back into the warmth my digits returned. I shot just one frame.
Today I dedicate this photo and the memory and power of trees to my friend, NK.
Just between you and me, little kitty, is a thick piece of glass. I was sorry you weren’t able to paw and claw your way through the window and to join the festivities on your stoop. It was quite a party.
Sometimes you sit and watch a moment unfold before you. Sometimes you think you’re documenting an aspect of that moment and find that you’ve captured something altogether unexpected. So it was while sitting on a friend’s back patio this fall, separating grapes from raisins, feeding grapes to chickens, and chatting the afternoon way.
Her daughter, my pal and a favorite photo muse, was doing the “toss the grapes into the air and catch ‘em in her mouth game,” when one of the chickens leapt from the ground and into the frame. I think she wanted to be the center of attention.
…but these ain’t morning glories. Dried calendula blossoms come to life when mixed with hot water. Soothing for the soul and on the eyes.
In the past several years, I’ve noticed a trend in my travel habits: my taste buds and inner compass find the local farmer’s markets. Food is a gateway to any given culture – domestic and foreign – but I’ve noticed that in addition to the beauty of the raw ingredients themselves, the way they are presented to the customer is a truly varied thing.
At Montreal’s Marche Jean-Talon, a venue I visited at least four times during a week this summer, produce lounging in baskets (instead of the heaps that I’m accustomed to), provided a new perspective on the beauty of peppers, beans, carrots, and mushrooms…
The finale, was the behind-the-scenes cart of cabbage. Savoy, oh, the savoy…