Approaching storm clouds in southeastern Oregon.


I know more than a few photographers who refuse to leave the house unless an epic sunset or sunrise is promised.  At the same time there is a running joke amongst some of my photographer friends about how I have unbelievable luck with "good" weather.  This has been tested over the last three weeks on my weekly outings to the various bridges.  Every time I invite others out with me, they tend to glance apprehensively at the looming rain clouds while joking that my streak with good weather may just be coming to an end.  Then of course we show up and the clouds break and the sun beams through and there are rainbows and unicorns and elves and we get amazing photographs.

Or something like that.

This coming from the guy who over the past two winters has taught a "Winter landscape" class through Newspace expressly geared toward getting the rainiest, worst weather possible.  The first year I did that, my good luck almost was my undoing and the class was graced with a rare gorge snow, making things unarguably beautiful.

I did much better this past winter at Cape Kiwanda getting some of the wettest and most blustery conditions I have ever experienced out there while trying to take pictures.  We got shellacked by the weather.

And you know what?  Out of all the classes I have taught, that one probably produced the best pictures.

I like tell people several things when it comes to weather.  The first is that good and bad really have no relation to the weather.  Weather is like light, it is just is.  There is no good or bad weather, it is all in your approach to it, how much you are chained down by your own perceptions and expectations.  As photographers we like to blame light and weather for a lot of our own shortcomings.  "ah, the light was horrible" or "the weather sucked".  But you know what, if you didn't get any shots it is your own fault, not that of the weather.

Second, and following the first then, when my friends now joke with me about my good luck with good weather I tend to joke back that for me all weather is good, be it rain, ice, sun, etc.  I am sort of like how the post office used to be.  Yes, neither sleet nor dark of night slow me down as well.

Third, I prefer the so-called "bad" weather because all the places I like to go such as downtown, the Gorge, or the beach are all much less crowded on those days.

Fourth, as a photographer who photographs in "bad" weather you tend to get all the pictures the fair weather photographers miss.  In a time where some of us hoard locations like precious minerals, it is amazing the change in the quality of your images you can bring about simply by going out in crummy weather to the usual spots.

Fifth, you never know.  You just don't.  "Bad" weather tends to be more dynamic and more prone to rapid change.  It can pour one moment but the next those storm clouds may ease aside for a brilliant sunset.  This is less likely to happen on sunny days it seems.  I tend to go out with as few expectations as possible and see what I can find.

Sixth, I just love rain and wind.  They make me feel alive.  I was out in the Gorge this weekend in the rain.  My coat still smelled like wet moss today.  It was great.

Anyway, so if you know a fair-weather photographer, the next time the skies gray up, kick them in the rump and drag them out with you.  You'll be amazed at how differently beautiful the world is in the rain, or sleet, or dark of night...


By: Photography and words by: Zeb Andrews (USA) ©2010


Shot with a Pentax 6x7









COPYRIGHT NOTICE
Copyright ©Zeb Andrews. All rights reserved. This photo is not to be used as free stock.
Use without written consent by the author (Zeb Andrews) is  illegal and punishable by law.

There are three main reasons I enjoy my pinhole so much: it is slow, it is simple and it is durable.  I am often amused at the irony that my love of nature and my love of photography have combined to get me out to more places than I would have otherwise, but that pressing desire to photograph those places sometimes causes me to rush and scramble so much for the next shot as to actually distract me from enjoying the scenery right in front of me.  The aperture on my pinhole is a "blazing" f250.  That means even on fairly bright days I am going to have exposures ranging from 15 to 60 seconds in length.  It is not uncommon for me to expect to wait out a five or eight minute exposure either.  What I have found this does is that it slows me down.  I tend to find myself relaxing a bit more, looking around, studying and planning, but also just simply enjoying.  The required wait on the camera pays off in a more relaxed approach to the landscape around me.


I also enjoy my pinhole camera for it's sheer simplicity.  It is a wooden box with a hole on one side.  No meter, no viewfinder, no shutter speeds per se, or LCD display.  A box, a hole and my imagination.  It is amazing how liberating that can be.  As such, I find myself asking more questions with my pinhole camera, such as this shot.  I wondered how this composition would work with the sun blazing in the frame and the people splashing in the fountain over the long exposure.  So I set the camera up and proceeded to answer that question.  Instead of worrying about the camera, and the necessary manipulations required to operate it, I was concentrating on using that camera.  A subtle, yet important shift in perspective.

The simplicity of the images is also appealing to me.  Sure, they are a bit soft, it is after all merely a hole in brass foil, no high quality optical glass or state of the art coatings here.  But again I find that to be a benefit far more often than a hindrance.  Too often I see photographers hung up on the belief that if they pursue technical precision as far as they can, then they are bound to produce good photographs in the process.  There is some validity to this, a photograph has to be technically precise enough to convey its message, but the danger is believing that technical precision or perfection is in itself a strong enough message.  It rarely is in my experience.  Especially since there are many photographers out there skilled enough to produce images that are both technically precise and evocative.  Pinhole shakes that up just a bit.  It is not as sharp as lensed cameras.  Its details are a bit soft and impressionistic.  But I have found that when used appropriately, most people do not even notice.  And this underscores what I said above, that technical precision is important to a degree, but knowing how to effectively use your camera and its abilities is far more important.  And being so simple in nature, I feel the pinhole is a relatively easy camera to get to know in this fashion.

Finally, I can rarely have a discussion about pinhole without mentioning how durable this camera is.  My camera has been dropped into the ocean...twice.  It fell off my tripod and got swept over the Eagle Falls at Lake Tahoe.  It jumped off my lap and out of a parked car in NW Portland once, shattering itself on the sidewalk.  It was probably tired of being dropped in the ocean.  But for all those adventures, it still works.  The images it makes look as good as the day I bought it.  The second time it fell in the ocean, it took about three minutes for me to find it in the surf.  When I did, it was buried under wet sand, with only the leg of my tripod to indicate where it was.  I opened the camera, dumped out the salt water and sand, then ran it under the faucet in a nearby restroom to rinse it out.  I dried it with paper towels and had it reloaded within 15 minutes.  I cannot say this would have been possible with any of my other cameras.  As long as I can keep the box light tight, and as long as I do not damage the pinhole itself, this camera will last a lifetime or more.
Of course, it does not look nowhere near as nice as it used to.  But it has plenty of character, and stories.


Photography and words by: Zeb Andrews (USA) ©2010


Pinhole, Zero Image












COPYRIGHT NOTICE
Copyright ©Zeb Andrews. All rights reserved. This photo is not to be used as free stock.
Use without written consent by the author (Zeb Andrews) is  illegal and punishable by law.

Those who think they are the only ones looking, tend to be looking at far less than the rest.


Ok, before I get into this, let me preface by saying it has been a long week. I am fairly worn out and as such perhaps a bit more grumpy and rant-prone than usual. But nonetheless, what I am about to rant about is behavior that has bugged me for a little while now, I generally just don't pay much attention to it. At the same time, it is behavior I don't understand, at least fully, so I am willing to hear counter arguments to my following rant. If you disagree, please speak up, argue your point, let us have a discussion. A side rant of mine is I tend to enjoy too little discussion on here, but that is beside the point.

One rant at a time.

So here goes. What gives with photographers who believe they need to keep places all "secret"? I see this most often with landscape photographers. They will go off to a place, generally one that is hardly undiscovered, and come back from it with their photos which they will gladly share, and often boast of, but will make sure to mention that it is their "secret" location. Now, I am not talking about the habit of not including location data, I mean, I don't always post where a photo is. Generally this is because it is not anywhere specific or I don't know how to describe where it is. Such as with some of my photos of the Palouse. Sure I could get down the map and scour it for 30 minutes finding the exact coordinates of where I took that photo. But I don't. If someone asks, I will try to give them as good of directions as possible.

So I understand the lack of location data. Rather, what makes me scratch my head a bit is photographers who go out of their way to brag about how a location is secret and they are not telling.

I mean, why? Really?

In a sense it always makes me wonder if the photographer is a little insecure about their own abilities, isn't this generally why one boasts? Because they feel some need to impress others by letting everyone know how special they are? Ok, maybe I am being a bit harsh. Maybe. Told you I was feeling rant-prone.

Insecure or not, I think it is kind of bad form and etiquette. If you don't want to share where a place is, I guess that is your decision, but bragging about your secret spot is a bit over the top.

And then there are those photographers who make full use of places like Flickr or Photo.net to locate spots that others have shot, asking questions on where locations are and such, and then refuse to share that information themselves. Kind of self-serving and selfish. I had a customer in the store once who was talking about how foolish most Flickr photographers were to share so much information, that he did not post because he did not want people to know where his favorite spots were, but he did like to get on there now and then to see where everyone else was going and thought it a good use for that. He was a bit of an arrogant scumbag too. But perhaps that is beside the point.

So the question I keep coming back to is, why? What is the reasoning behind this behavior? Are they afraid others will get down there and steal their photos? Can you really steal a photo? If so then perhaps the problem doesn't lie with the availability of info on where that location is, but rather with your own ability to be creative. And I think that gets to one of the hearts of the matter. With so many landscape photographers out there, many areas get saturated in terms of how often they get photographed, and so the competitive nature (another silly piece of behavior) drives photographers to not only range farther afield to "new" areas but to try and hide that info from other photographers so they cannot get out there and make their own pictures.

I have two responses to that. First, I have a whole series of the St. Johns Bridge created over several years. I find that I take my best and most creative photos in the places I am most familiar with, that I have visited the most. Sure I get nice photos in new places too, but those pictures tend to be based on experience I have gained experimenting in those places familiar with me.

And second, I learn a lot more from seeing others photograph in a place I have been to, than I could hope to on my own. What I mean is, by seeing how others photograph the Palouse, or Painted Hills or the Alvord Desert I learn about other comps, conditions, techniques. Way more than I ever probably would have on my own. So in the long run it is a benefit to myself to share that info and encourage others to those spots to photograph their own perceptions. At least that is how I think about it.

Now to be fair I have heard a good argument or two for keeping locations secret, but these tend to be the incredibly small minority. One was a photographer who was taking pictures of a Mennonite community in New England. He did not want to share the location of this rural community because he did not want photographers bum-rushing out there to take photographic advantage of this quiet community of people. I can appreciate him trying to protect them while still trying share their experience with the world. The second good excuse involved the Boiler Bay headlands along the Oregon coast because the popular trail to the coast involved crossing private property, specifically someone's front yard. Most photographers will behave themselves, nonetheless I probably would not appreciate a flood of photographers sneaking across my front lawn all the time in the pre-dawn darkness. Now an alternate route has been laid out that avoids the property and respects these people's privacy much better.

But that is about it, at least that I can think of.

I dunno, I struggle with this one, because on one hand I really don't care much. To each their own, or such. But on the other hand, it also strikes me as bad etiquette which can lead to bad habits and the teaching of. But even more so than that, because I think allowing yourself to fall into that trap of location hoarding is not a healthy perspective for a good photographer. I think it is a symptom of some underlying problem. I am not a psychiatrist though. Imagine that though, photographic psychiatry!

Anyway, as I was saying, if you think the success of your photos relies on you hiding where you take them, then you probably are not a terribly good photographer. Perhaps competent, maybe even good, but probably not great. Because a great photographer isn't limited by his location, secret or not, he carries all the secrets of his or her success with them. They are called vision and imagination. Between those two things, they make secret locations irrelevant. In my opinion.

So my advice to all you location hoarders? Don't. It's ok. Share information, encourage those around you to go there and shoot. Help them get better because by doing so, they will help you get better too. It is not a contest, nor should you feel like you can be collecting these spots. And if you do insist on keeping your secret locations, don't show us photos of them. Keep them secret. It is mildly obnoxious to dangle them in front of us and not be willing to share where they are. Chances are, somebody else already knows anyway. You probably were not the first one there. In fact, that is almost certainly the case. And if you still insist on going this far, then at least have the decency to stop taking advantage of other photographers who are willing to share their information. Because that is just selfish and I am out of excuses for you at this point.

Ok, wow, that really was quite a rant. Have not done that in a while.

So to sum all this up, let me just say this one last thing, sort of as the icing on the cake. That is, I have a lot of serious thoughts on photography, but I try not to take any of them too seriously. Even this rant. Sure, it was worth the twenty minutes of typing to put it out there, but at the same time, it really is not that important because I am going to keep doing what I do, in a way that I feel good about doing it. And all the location-hoarders in the world cannot affect that.


Photography and words by Zeb Andrews (USA) ©2010





Photography: Pinhole, Zero Image
This shot by the way was sunrise at a super ultra secret location called Hug Point along the Oregon Coast just south of Cannon Beach. Don't bother to ask me where it is, I'm not telling.














Copyright ©Zeb Andrews , All rights reserved. This photo is not to be used as free stock.
Use without written consent by the author (Zeb Andrews ) is illegal and punishable by law.

The garage in this picture housed a homeless drug addict when we moved into the adjacent house on Oswego Avenue. The guy's dwelling consisted of an old door propped on cinder blocks which he used as his bed and an old TV powered by an extension cord that ran from our basement window across the lawn into the garage. The TV served as his only light source. His squat was nestled between a heap of junk which consisted of broken appliances, paint cans, miscellaneous garden tools and the boarded up car port door. He draped tar paper over the whole thing presumably offering some insulation in the dank chemical fumed storage space.

Weeks after the homeless man had purportedly vacated his tar paper shanty, our neighbors complained of a mysterious beeping coming inside the garage. At the time, we didn't have keys but rather relied on a rusty hand saw to jimmy the lock. We tried to slide the saw between the jam and the frame as we usually do, but it wouldn't budge the lock. I decided to crawl through the window to investigate the noise. I found myself alone in the dark with the beeping. The window let in just enough light for me to make out the vaguely reflective tar paper propped over the homeless man's former home. I couldn't see what was beeping. I couldn't see the locked door. Panic struck.

My first encounter with the homeless man was on our initial tour of the property. Our landlady ducked into a room showing us the lower level bedroom and there he was sleeping at three in the afternoon with his bed roll and TV. We learned that the landlord was paying him and letting him stay in the house and in exchange he helped her to fix the place up. When we moved in, we insisted that she change the locks.

I saw him a few times after that. He stopped by to stain the deck and take care of some loose ends and then he was gone. A week later, I found the extension cord running from our basement, under the deck, across the lawn and into the locked garage. We expressed concern to our landlady and she said he was living there. We were kind, said we didn't mind but were concerned for his health. She aired the place out and we agreed to give him a week to move on. And he did. Then he came back for his TV and bike, stayed a week, then he left again. Then the beeping started in the garage and I found myself in the dark, with the beeping, not knowing if I was alone.

bee-beep, bee-beep, bee-beep. My heart beating thum-thump, thum-thump.

A nascent fear of the dark crept up on me. Like as kid, when I'd shut the bathroom door without hitting the light switch. Light could not come soon enough. I feared the unknown. I plunged through the unknown, hitting my knee on a bucket and fumbling to unlock the deadbolt. Suddenly the daylight swept in and my friends stood there completely unaware of my ordeal.

"What's beeping?"

With the light from the door, we were able to trace the noise to a smoke detector submerged in a bucket of water.

On the day Jared left for Colorado, we all threw knives at the fence he and I built last winter, Denise gave him a flower and I took this picture. Then he drove off in his Yugo. Molly drove the bus. The warm comfy bus with hard wood floors and a wood stove. When he was about a mile away, I called him to tell him that he had forgotten to take his dog with him. He came back and got him. Then we said goodbye again.

Photography and words by: Oliver Ogden (USA)







COPYRIGHT NOTICE  ©2009
Copyright ©Oliver Ogden , All rights reserved. This photo is not to be used as free stock.
Use without written consent by the author (Oliver Ogden ) is illegal and punishable by law.

daybreak
at a boat ramp
fifteen miles up the salmon river
from riggins, idaho
beneath a gnarly juniper tree
sit the three buddhas
passing a joint
they hear a '57 chevrolet bel-air nomad
roaring up the river road towards them
the chevy
is pulling a 23 foot jet boat on a trailer
and it turns off into the gravel parking lot
circles
and comes to a stop
the buddhas watch
as the chevy backs across the lot,
at 40 miles per hour,
straight down the ramp
suddenly breaking
and sliding the last 20 yards
the trailer comes to an abrupt stop
all the wheels buried below water
and the jet sled pops off
god rolls down the window
"turboglide, baby," he says,
"you gotta love it"
"where've you been?" asks one of the buddhas
"yeah, it seems like an eternity,"
says another buddha
as he takes a toke off the joint
"well let me enlighten you," says god
"it's a big universe"
"an empty universe," says the second buddha
"and it's expanding," adds the third
as he holds the smoke in his lungs
"you boys want to fish or talk?" asks god
the buddhas look at each other;
"fish," they say in unison
"well, you might want to grab the boat
before it leaves without us," says god
"and would one of you mind getting me
another budweiser
out of the cooler on the back?"
the buddhas grab the rope
and a bud for god
"thanks," says god
as He snaps back the lid
of a zippo lighter
and fires up a lucky strike
blue smoke curls to the heavens
the air is soft, expectant
sage, juniper, spent lighter fluid
across from the ramp
in a pocket of water
of dark, blue green water,
a steelhead rolls
"i'll go park the rig," says god,
as he looks up the canyon,
with a smile.


Part II

face of the deep waters, baby
without form,
fathomless
void
god, moving
mystic mists
twilight
the witching hour
and god said, "let there be steelhead"
and there were steelhead
but no one could catch them
and He saw that the steelhead were good
and god said, "the rest will take care of itself"
"what are you saying?" ask the buddhas
from within the cabin of the jet boat
fogged by sweet smoke
"nothing," says god, "i was just talking to myself"
"nothing?" repeats the first buddha
all three buddhas start snickering
"steelhead have buddha nature," say the buddhas
"well, they live in the present moment,
and are mindful only of themselves,
i will say that," says god
as they approach a class five rapid,
god momentarily slows the jet boat
as He reads the waters
big water
big fucking water
big water forced through
narrow canyon walls
then god surges into the white water
and at full throttle
cuts all the way across
between two rocks,
gigantic, ancient, submerged
and then up again and through
suddenly
still up on plane
they are gliding
on a long slick of smooth water
autumn colors succumb to purple
mourning purple
shadows birthed by steep canyon walls
"when are we going to fish?"
asks the first buddha
"yeah, is this a good spot?
asks the second
"is this where the steelhead dwell?"
ask the third buddha.
up at the helm, god squints around
and takes a long drag
on a slightly damp lucky strike
"how should i know," says god
"omniscience has its limitations."


off the bow
of a jet sled
on the salmon river
in southern idaho


By: Wayne Mackeson (USA) ©2008


Photo's: zero image 69, pinhole camera, kodak e100vs color slide film
image cropped to 15x7



COPYRIGHT NOTICE
Copyright ©Wayne Mackeson, All rights reserved. This photo is not to be used as free stock.
Use without written consent by the author (Wayne Mackeson) is illegal and punishable by law.


NOTE
Thiaps will take the full  responsibility for publishing this work.
If you feel offended please let us know.
 

The storm


Thanks to everyone who took the time to stop and look at the previous photo I posted. Tonight I had meant to post this shot and discuss my thoughts behind it at a bit of a greater length, but we shall see how far I get. I have been at the computer all day scanning and editing an image for a job, so my neck is sore and my eyes are tired, and it is a thoroughly less pleasant fatigue than the one you enjoy physically after a good hike in the woods.

Anyway, my attempt with my last photo was just to change the pace a little. I know part of my opinion coming up is cynicism, but also not entirely. I just wanted to take a shot at the 5-second attention span many of us use to rule our lives. Regarding photography specifically you notice this by watching a person's viewing habits. What do we do when browsing Flickr, but flip flip flip.

And flip flip flip.

I am certainly not immune to this, and have been paying a lot more attention to it lately and trying to slow myself down. It is one of the reasons I have been leaving fewer comments is I have been looking at fewer photos and trying to leave more personal comments than the usual "Excellent photo!" or "stonking good shot!". Yes that last is a nod to our good friend RC, for those of you who know who I am talking about. ;-) He is sort of the antithesis of what I was trying to encourage with my last photo.

Whoa, speaking of short attention spans, cannot let myself get too distracted. Anyway, I just notice this behavior in people (again myself included) and it sort of bugs me. Well ok, it bugs me a great deal. I recently rented a car for my trip up to Mt. Rainier. It had Sirius radio. Something like 156 stations to listen to. You know what I spent most of my time doing? Flipping stations!!!

And flip flip flip. Eventually I just turned the radio off and read a book (not while driving though). It was ridiculous. I find I do the same in hotel rooms when presented with cable television. It is almost too hard to resist. Oooh so many channels, cannot decide. I'll watch Discovery for 30 seconds until a commercial, then flip over to History. Wonder what is on AMC or HBO?

What I find a bit unsettling though, is sometimes I wonder if this attitude is affecting how we perceive the world, and hence the photos we take. They tend to rely more on intense colors, dynamic compositions, shock and awe. They have to, the average person only looks at a photo for a handful of seconds, it has to have a hook.

Nothing really wrong with that, unless you sacrifice depth to achieve it. I was browsing a really cool book of Ansel Adams' photos today over lunch (no I really do never stop thinking about photography). His photos certainly are full of drama and contrast, but they also have depth to them. They appeal to the wandering eye as well as the lingering one.

This is where I worry about the trends of our perceptions. We continuously think that a photo has to be vibrant, punchy, and saturated. Our black and white photos have to be contrasty and impending. And notice how these words work into our vocabulary. How often do we talk about the soft palette of colors an image celebrates? Or the extensive tonal range? What about richness without contrast? Sure, these still come up, but less frequently than they used to.

A couple of comments I received sparked various thoughts in my head. On the last self-portrait I posted taken at Lost Lake with my pinhole (that 4 minute exposure) someone commented on the extraordinary patience I must have. Really? Is it that extraordinary these days to be able to stand still and occupy one's self for 4 minutes? And I will even be more honest, I was not even occupying myself. I had a gorgeous lake and mountain in front of me to do it. Is it really such a gulf between 4 seconds and 4 minutes that people think I must be superhuman to bridge it?

And the second comment someone left on my last photo about the machine gun nature of DSLRs contributing to this drive-by attention span we have going. I think there is definitely some validity to this. The ability to fire through 1000 shots without having to stop to reload or waste film certainly plays a role. But I think this is more a matter of the egg coming before the chicken. We use digital cameras in this fashion because we want to. No sense blaming our behavior on the camera. It is not like that D70 is whispering seductively in your ear "come on, just 50 more frames, no need to stop to think or enjoy any of this. Just shoot shoot shoot." As I have said before, the important stuff all happens behind the camera. If a DSLR becomes a photo-machine gun it is because the photographer makes it one. And that photographer is just as likely to do so with a film camera too. Trust me, I know some of these people personally.

Anyway, these are all late night musings. Things I have noticed. I am not saying I am right. I am not saying I have a solution if I am. I am not even saying if you do this, you shouldn't. The great thing about photography is we each get to approach it how we will, and we should.

I have just been noticing this behavior a bit in myself and am attempting to curb it, because I feel like I get better photos when I do. If we approach the world only looking for the flashy stuff, we will find it. And we will take photos of it. But if you make an effort to move a bit slowly, to find the scenes that suck you in and hold you enthralled for minutes on end, you stand a good chance of taking photos that do the same. Isn't that what a photographer should aim for, that is, a photo that draws the viewer in and holds them enthralled. Is it really that fulfilling to take a photo that impresses someone for 4-10 seconds before they move on to the next image? I would rather take one picture that stopped someone for 5 minutes, than 30 images that stopped them for 10 seconds each.

Anyway, looks like I got a fair distance down after all. But enough is enough. You know the drill, got enough time for a single minute again? ;-)

And Brian it is ok to want to taste this, makes me want to too, so there are at least two of us weirdos out there.


By: Zeb Andrews (USA) ©2008


Photo:Pentax 6x7


COPYRIGHT NOTICE
Copyright © Zeb Andrews. All rights reserved. This photo is not to be used as free stock.
Use without written consent by the author (Zeb Andrews) is illegal and punishable by law.

chicago 7/31/08

iwas living in boston and was supposed to let my doctor know any time that i was planning on going out of town.
One night ceilia called to say that she and Kevin were driving to Chicago and that i should come along.
They picked me up the next day in her battered red beetle with the oval rear window. i had the back seat all to my self. i watched the scenery, slept and made sandwiches.
i don't remember too much about the first part of the trip. i remember we stopped to watch a small town parade and that further along we were tail gating a big 18 wheeler that turned into a giant manta ray which flapped it's wings and effortlessly arced away from the road when we finally got too close.
i slept on and off and enjoyed the vibration of the window against my face.
And then there was the part where i woke to the absence of motion. We were pulled over. Ceilia and Kevin said i should stay with the car and they'd return with gas. i went back to sleep and woke again feeling light, refreshed and wanting to stretch.
i circled the car a few times and then headed up the road. It was woodsy and as idyllic as the cover of a coffee table book. i walked and walked. i'm not a great whistler but i remember that was the feeling of it. i cut through a field with big black and white spotty cows. i crossed some train tracks. More fields. i kept being able to find the same stone i had kicked so many times i finally lost the count. Eventually i needed to rest and just laid down in the magic of the day.

When i woke up i didn't feel quite so good as i had, but not so bad either. The sun wasn't where i'd seen it last and it had cooled off a bit. i wasn't positive which way was back.
Okay. i'll go this way and if i don't hit the train tracks i'll go the other. But that got weird cause even after i had walked a long long way without reaching the tracks i still had the feeling they could be up ahead. And on top of that the truth was that i'd seen everything the way i had just come and really didn't want to see it for a second or third time - something in me just didn't want to turn around - i felt like i was done with everything in that direction.
The next thing that happened was "significant". i bent down to tie a shoe lace that had come loose. In my life discovering an untied shoe lace ALWAYS means something is about to happen. i bent down wondering what it would be.
It was a big station wagon driven by this couple with two kids. They pulled over and asked if everything was alright and did i need a ride?

i sat in back with the kids. Turns out they were locals and it was the first Saturday of the month which was their day to have diner at their favorite restaurant attached to the service station not far away. It was a family tradition and i was welcomed to join them. Their treat.
i saw the bible up on the dashboard but they never mentioned it. They were just plain sweet. i awoke to the little boy tugging on my shirt. We were there.
The menu was like what you would have imagined. i was tempted by the spaghetti plate but went with an ice cream sundae. the mother's brow momentarily knit but she softened right away. The kids were talkative which was making it easy on me. And then two things happened at once.
The waitress rounded into the isle and i could see my sundae coming in a fancy glass bowl with five inches of whipped cream and a cherry. Whoa! And - simultaneously i thought i heard someone call my name.

There at the cash register by the entrance was ceilia and Kevin.

Ceilia got to the table fast. "where the fuck have you been? We've been looking for you all day".

Everyone at the table winced with that. i didn't know what to say.

"come on man we gotta go now!"

the waitress had arrived with my sundae and i was torn, i felt conflicted and at the same time sort of sleepy.

The mother spoke. "you can take it with you. We know the owners and it'll be okay".

i will never forget her eyes.

And then i was in the back seat again. Only now ceilia and Kevin weren't talking to me. They were acting like i wasn't there. Which actually made it easier for me to enjoy my ice cream.

i woke up in Chicago.





By: Gary Isaacs (USA)  ©2008

Photo: Leica M2 , 35mm sumicron, Tri-x




COPYRIGHT NOTICE
Copyright © Gary Isaacs. All rights reserved. This photo is not to be used as free stock.
Use without written consent by the author (Gary Isaacs) is illegal and punishable by law.