Last of the flowers for now, I promise. Though I did have fun shooting them, and I learned a few new methods for lighting them for different moods and looks. The Daffodils are on the way out now, and the Tulips and Poppies are just around the corner, so I can’t promise that some “other” types of flowers won’t show up here in the near future.
A story told through a series of photographs.
So the weather was supposed to be cloud cover and a chance of snow for tonight’s eclipse, but instead there was just a light, thin cloud cover, almost transparent even. I decided to go out to take a look but hadn’t planned on photographing it due to the foggy cloud layer and also due to the fact that I don’t have a zoom lens that’s really capable getting in close enough. Wouldn’t you know that the clouds cleared out just in time for the eclipse to start, and I had to scramble to get my camera ready and set. I got in a few photos, these were the best, though still not terrific.
Just after the last photo, the clouds rolled back in, so that put an end to that. I have had very little luck with eclipses, mostly due to the magnification, but sometimes due to the exposure, it gets a bit tricky as the moon goes through the phases of the eclipse.
The next eclipse is not due for over two years now, just long enough for me to forget all that I’ve learned about shooting eclipses and to screw it up once again. ;-)
A visitor reading the inscriptions on the New England Holocaust Memorial in Boston, Massachusetts. The memorial is made up of six glass towers, each five stories tall, with a walkway that allows visitors to walk through each tower and look up through the four glass walls. On each of the glass walls are inscribed the numbers from 0000000 through 6000000 in order, split up over the six towers. There are also various writings, poems, and memos that were written during, or about the holocaust.
I’ve been thinking about a story I read some years ago, Samuel Beckett’s “The Lost Ones”, and now this photo stirs the memory once again. It was a short that I read many years ago after a recommendation from a friend. I think some time later, years later, I “got” the story and it made more sense to me. Maybe it was due to maturity, or just a fuzzy memory, I’m not sure, but now, I have been thinking about trying to track it down again and give it a second look. It also makes me wonder about the person who first recommended the book to me, as I think it held a deeper meaning for them that I just didn’t get at the time. I will likely read the story again soon, but I’m not sure it will have the same impact it has had on my for the past 15 or so years.
I am probably over analyzing this whole thing…but then again…?
I remember going to the zoo when I was young and having my parents tell me about how they had come to see Emily when they were my age. Now, some fifty years after them, I find myself at the zoo telling my child how I used to visit her when I was his age, and how his grandparents used to visit her when they were his age. It seems like such a strange thing to say, when we live in such a disposable society, where nothing is forever, and nothing lasts.