White
West Texas is a quite a ways from the closest ocean – about 500 miles – so it is a little bit of a mystery about these oyster shells that have been pressed into the rough concrete on these graves. I see this sort of regularly in my wanderings and always wonder about the process of it all.
These markers are in fairly good condition; most of the time all the shells are broken, by our wicked summer hail or by vandals: I do not know.
Meadow, Texas
photographed 11.7.2020
Café, with sky
My British photographer pal Andy Hooker had posted several photos of this place before our trip; on our very first morning in England, we were able to meet him and his lovely wife, and see this little beach-side cafe. It was an excellent start to our trip. And it also illustrates what a small world we photographers roam around in.
And, because it’s been a while since I posted a Bruce Cockburn song, here’s a live version of one called Café Society. Fun fact: I was in the audience of this show.
East Beach Café
Littlehampton, England
photographed 5.30.2017
Hotel visitor contemplates her day
This town was my parents’ favorite in all of England. They talked about it a lot. The Patient Spouse and I took my dad on a last trip to England after my mom died, and of course he planned a trip around this town. And then, when the Patient Spouse and I took Miss Hannah Harvey on a trip to England, we wanted to go back and see it again.
All that aside, what do you suppose that woman in the window is thinking about. Maybe it’s “why do SO MANY Texans think they need to keep coming here?”
Bourton-on-the-Water, England
photographed 6.1.2017




