Something about rebirth.

It seems we are going to need it if the dire predictions are true. Luckily, they are all over the place. Some say that the government numbers are too high. Bill Gates is one who says that the number of deaths will not be as high as 240,000 souls. Maybe not even as high as 100,000.

I suppose we’ll see in short order. This is the week of extreme sadness. That may be in the north, but down here we haven’t come close to a peak. Our turn will come.

That’s enough of that.

I want to talk about pictures.

This picture. It’s very green. It’s about the rebirth that comes in spring. It’s about all things positive. It was an easy picture to make, but not so easy to see. The differing shades of green are what makes this picture interesting. Seeing it takes the right light falling on the right place at the right time. I saw it. Photographer’s luck, I say.

I follow a blogger, tweeter, Instagrammer, Facebooker called Andy Adams. He’s a nice guy. He champions photographers and photography. He’s in his early 40s. He’s just young enough to think all photography is fine on the screen. I’m just old enough to think that a picture isn’t a photograph until it’s printed on paper.

He tweeted. A friend of mine retweeted a link right below his. The link took me to Danny Lyon, who is one of those photojournalistic icons along with people like Robert Frank. I owe my work to them. Lyon said on his blog, which lives right here on WordPress, that his lab makes silver prints. In other words, an old school photograph. Those pieces of paper, along with an amazing amount of vision and talent, paid for a house in New Mexico, one in Upstate New York and another beach house on the east coast.

Paper. That’s still where it’s at.

Stay safe. Take care of one another. Keep your distance. Wear your mask in public spaces. Wash your hands. Enjoy all the Chinese food.

Another look at wonderful fall light.

I don’t usually post a picture from the same take two days in a row unless it’s from an event like a second line.

I sort of feel like I’m either cheating or not doing my work very well. But, an old friend of mine who is rarely on Facebook commented about yesterday’s work. She liked it.

She suffered a terrible loss about a decade ago. Even though the shock and the trauma have been dulled, she still isn’t over it. Nor, should she be.

She was awfully kind to me when we first met on a plane, We talked for a while and then when she saw my walking to a taxi stand, she gave me a ride to my hotel. We had a quick meal and a better dinner the next night. Mostly, we talked about what happened. Today, we keep in touch.

I think about that time now and again. I was there on business. My friend lives there. When I wonder about myself sometimes, I think maybe that’s why I’m here. Like the old James Taylor song says.

There’s a whole bunch of lyrics to the song, but I like this set the best.

“Fortune and fame’s
Such a curious game
Perfect strangers
Can call you by name

Pay good money
To hear Fire and Rain
Again and again
And again

Some are like summer
Coming back every year
Got your baby
Got your blanket
Got your bucket of beer

I break into a grin
From ear to ear
And suddenly
It’s perfectly clear

That’s why I’m here (that’s why I’m here)
Sing it tonight, tomorrow and everyday
That’s why I’m standing (that’s why I’m here)
Oh that’s why I’m here”

We talk about this very subject at home. Often.