Author Archives: Melinda Green Harvey
sometimes repairs seem pointless
I don’t want to disparage what these workers are doing, but given the number of holes in the roof and the way that far wall seems sort of frail makes me wonder if there’s any real need to focus on whatever’s going on in that pit.
New Orleans, Louisiana
photographed 4.12.2023
night windows
I guess I ought to have wished for a room with a more traditionally scenic view – maybe the river or downtown or whatever. But on the other hand: while this isn’t “scenic” in the traditional sense, I was very fond of the three lighted windows in an otherwise dark building across the street.
New Orleans, Louisiana
photographed 4.12.2023
NOLA, in the spring
I went to grad school in New Orleans. Trust me on this: the summers are very hot, very humid. Like so humid you can’t even breathe. Like so hot you can’t even move.
As a career-having person, it turns out that I have a lot of conferences in New Orleans, and most of them are in the spring. (See previous paragraph for an explanation.)
Somehow, though, spring in New Orleans seduces me almost every time I’m there. The colors are lovely. The food is delightful. The air feels soft. And Every. Single. Time. I think, “It wouldn’t be so bad to live here.”
Except, you know, not.
New Orleans, Louisiana
photographed 4.12.2023
our darling
Goodness. Someone’s child, their darling, is buried here. I can’t imagine anything sadder.
Rose Hill Cemetery
Fayetteville, Tennessee
photographed 12.26.2021
capitol reflection
If there’s a subject that’s lately captured my attention, it would be reflections of things. I like the way the make the distinct indistinct, the way the camera sees things that my eyes and brain edit out, the way reality becomes indistinct.
And so, here I present the Colorado state capitol dome reflected in a big window at the Denver Art Museum.
Denver, Colorado
photographed 9.13.2023
One Day | One Image 