Blog Archives

Shadows: chain and lights

I’m working from home for a while, like nearly everyone is, I guess.

The other day was a lovely spring day and I needed some sunshine on my head so I was working from Home Office Number 2 (the deck in the back yard) when I happened to notice what was going on with the back fence…

Lubbock, Texas
photographed 3.26.2020

Her glove

We here at One Day | One Image try to keep up with the latest trends, which is why it is time to point out that all the fashionable ladies are wearing ecru gloves this season, to match their lace dresses.

Lubbock, Texas
photographed 3.14.2020

Two options: parking lot or sky

If you get the impression from this picture that the main two things here are parking lots and skies, you would not be too far from the truth.

Lubbock, Texas
photographed 3.18.2020

Tree X

In the minutes after a rain storm, the split trunk of that tree is nicely reflected in the water.

Lubbock, Texas
photographed 3.18.2020

Dairy Products

I am drawn to looking at the fringes of things, especially the edges of towns. There’s something about the seasonal fireworks stands, the sketchy convenience stores, the low-rent retail operations, and I wonder how further growth will impact these places. Sometimes they get swallowed up, if the city’s moving their direction. Or if it’s not, maybe they eventually shrivel away.

And then sometimes, things take a faster turn – like this road just a few miles from my house. For years, it was a farm-to-market road that everyone called “1585.” Then parts of it were annexed by the city and it became, officially, 130th Street (although most people still called it by its old name). And now part of it is in the path of a new loop road around town, Loop 88, and demolition has already begun on the businesses that lined 1585 for all these years. It is a landscape that changes every time I go by.

My mind wanders all over the place on a good day, and now that I’m working from home and am without the daily dose of hilarious comments from co-workers, I’m left thinking things like, “How soon will we start to call our beloved 1585 just plain old 88?”

Lubbock County, Texas
photographed 3.17.2020