There’s a bit of pre-spring restlessness bouncing about my head. The sky is gray, the air continues to hold a noticeable chill, and buds have not quite budded. Yet I know winter’s end is within reach. It’s right there, just beyond my outstretched fingers. Granted, this New Jersey winter (more…)
Some things aren’t appreciated until seen in a photograph. Like a lot of life they are part of the scenery, on the periphery as we focus on whatever happens to be dominating our thoughts. I’m sure we’d notice a double rainbow or a three-legged cow, even as we concentrated on (more…)
I love seeing people just being themselves, going about their business, living their lives. Trying to capture those moments, especially with folks I don’t know, is one of my favorite photographic pastimes. Every now and then I’ll catch a person in such a way that (more…)
I'm looking at you
Meet Boomer. Boomer is a freak of nature, a furry ball of chromosome confusion. He missed a step on the evolutionary ladder or, if you prefer, (more…)
I wandered into an old book store. Walking towards the back I saw a handwritten sign pointing to “The Red Chair Room.” Who could pass up something like that? Not me. But as is often the case the reality differed from the promise. It wasn’t a room. It was more of a nook, but why quibble? After all there was a red chair and for that most anything can be forgiven.
old carousel house
When I was a kid my family would occasionally splurge and spend a few days and nights in Asbury Park, once a thriving New Jersey beach resort. Nowadays Asbury Park is best known as the town where Bruce Springsteen earned his musical chops. In reality he played ferociously up and down the Jersey shore in those days, but thanks in large part to (more…)
When the words stubbornly refuse to tumble forth it’s time to whip out some photos.
As previously mentioned England is a photographer’s dream. Here’s another selection of shots taken over the past year or so during two separate visits to this lovely country. Enjoy!
Red prancing in front of the massive Ribblehead viaduct in North Yorkshire
Among the items my aunt left to the family when she died in 1982 was a small, leather bound ringed notebook simply titled “Family Data”. Over the years she researched and (more…)
The concept of traveling to the past within one’s own life intrigues many people. Possible motivations are limited only by the scope of their experiences. Perhaps it’s a chance for redemption, to not repeat those foolish things which let a special person drift away. Perhaps it’s to avoid a traumatic event, to stay home during that wild blizzard rather than (more…)
Trask Avenue 