Sugar Snap Peas are new at the market
First sugar snap peas of the season are My Final Photo for June 12, 2013
Thinking of saints and poets at the community garden
Blendon Township Community Garden – My Final Photo May 14, 2013
It’s that time of the year where the community garden at Blendon Township begins to take shape as the gardeners till, row, prepare, and plant their small plots for what they hope will be a great harvest of fresh vegetables.
There was a time where the fields adjacent to the cemetery were off limits out of respect for the dead. My son and I were once angrily tossed out when we started fielding practice almost in the same spot that is now home to a community feeding their needs with produce and a sense of community involvement.
When we were told to leave I thought to myself that a father and son playing baseball in an open field next to the cemetery would be looked upon by the neighbors as a joyous expression of the celebration of life, not disrespect for the dead.
I’ve always been a fan of Thorton Wilder’s “Our Town” and its exposition of our lives. I love the third act and its intention to demonstrate how most people don’t understand the value of the simple commonplace events that create the tapestry of their lives.
I thought about the third act as we left the field trying to remember the exact line when the stage manager responds after he is asked if anyone realizes how important life is.
“No. The saints and poets, maybe – they do some.”
There must be saints and poets working today at Blendon Township.
Note: “Our Town,” the movie, is on Netflix.
No photos of my sister! Put the camera away!
Baby crying in stroller at farmers market – My Final Photo for May 8, 2013
Wednesday beginning in spring means the Uptown Westerville Farmers Market where I spend several hours each week talking with farmers and their customers. Usually I come away with photos of the latest crops or someone inspecting fruits and vegetables or carrying their selections to their cars.
Today was different from the summer when I photographed the hands of farmers with their produce.
I heard the low volume cries of a baby in the stroller next to me at the last booth in the market. It was a cry just loud enough to be heard but not of such a volume that the baby sounded in distress.
The lower section of the stroller held an older child who was too involved eating the recently purchased cookie to care about her sibling crying just over her head in the second compartment. I couldn’t see the crier because the sun shield was folded over her.
Her mom, taking a break from deciding which breads to buy, folded down the shield to make sure everything was OK. It was, except the baby began to cry louder once she saw mom. Mom, recognizing the increased volume and intensity as a feined attempt at physical distress, went back to her shopping.
The tears, the expression, and her reaction when the baby saw mom intrigued me.
I got two frames before the oldest child, a sister holding a cookie and standing beside the stroller looked at me like the grenade boy by Diane Arbus, reached over and closed the shield. She then looked at me, tilted her as if to say “Go away! This is my sister and you’re not going to be taking pictures of her crying!”
She turned and walked away shoulders held high and the cookie slowly moving toward her grinning mouth.
The photo is ordinary but the story elevates it to My Final Photo for May 8, 2013.
No photos of my sister! Put the camera away!
Baby crying in stroller at farmers market – My Final Photo for May 8, 2013
Wednesday beginning in spring means the Uptown Westerville Farmers Market where I spend several hours each week talking with farmers and their customers. Usually I come away with photos of the latest crops or someone inspecting fruits and vegetables or carrying their selections to their cars.
Today was different from the summer when I photographed the hands of farmers with their produce.
I heard the low volume cries of a baby in the stroller next to me at the last booth in the market. It was a cry just loud enough to be heard but not of such a volume that the baby sounded in distress.
The lower section of the stroller held an older child who was too involved eating the recently purchased cookie to care about her sibling crying just over her head in the second compartment. I couldn’t see the crier because the sun shield was folded over her.
Her mom, taking a break from deciding which breads to buy, folded down the shield to make sure everything was OK. It was, except the baby began to cry louder once she saw mom. Mom, recognizing the increased volume and intensity as a feined attempt at physical distress, went back to her shopping.
The tears, the expression, and her reaction when the baby saw mom intrigued me.
I got two frames before the oldest child, a sister holding a cookie and standing beside the stroller looked at me like the grenade boy by Diane Arbus, reached over and closed the shield. She then looked at me, tilted her as if to say “Go away! This is my sister and you’re not going to be taking pictures of her crying!”
She turned and walked away shoulders held high and the cookie slowly moving toward her grinning mouth.
The photo is ordinary but the story elevates it to My Final Photo for May 8, 2013.
Fiddler on the lawn
Free fiddling concert on Otterbein lawn – My Final Photo for May 1, 2005
The day was almost over. Well, the part of the day where I carry around a set of cameras was nearing its end when I spotted Phil on his bike carrying musical instruments. Of course when he stopped for the signal I began a conversation resulting in learning he was headed to the lawn at Otterbein where he would be joined by other musicians for a practice session.
I followed and made My Final Photo for the day.
Ruby sitting on her chair outside the family’s Uptown Westerville apartment
There are other photos from the day such as Ruby sitting on her chair outside the family’s Uptown Westerville apartment.
Fresh herb and vegetables plants for sale at farmers market
Also had fresh herb and vegetable plants for sale at the first day of the Uptown Westerville Farmers Market.