Blog Archives
Driving through
I was bored the other Sunday afternoon, sort of not feeling the photography to the extent that I like (and need, honestly, to keep up with a daily blog). So I did what any reasonable in-a-funk photographer would do. I drove down to Tahoka; I had high hopes. After all, Tahoka is the home of the famed prairie aster known as the Tahoka daisy. And I took this photograph there. And, it’s part of my family’s inside joke – when my Uncle Dan was leaving Lubbock to head south to his ranch, about a five hour drive away, he’d phone up and let us know that he was leaving and, he always said, he’d “drive through to Tahoka” the first day of the trip. (Tahoka’s thirty minutes from here.) I can’t even think about going there without remembering Uncle Dan.
So, anyway, I drove through to Tahoka. It was one of the first cool days of fall, and the sky was perfectly blue. And you know what a perfectly blue sky becomes when the photograph is black and white….
Tahoka, Texas
photographed 10.6.2013
Through for the year
Maybe there’s a slight chance some of my observant readers have noticed that I can be a bit of a contrarian. But if you haven’t noticed, here’s a little bit of proof. All summer, the sunflower fields south of town glowed with yellow light reflected from the blossoms. It was lovely.
But it wasn’t until the flowers were dead that I felt like taking their picture.
And, then I was reminded of a song by the band Thriftstore Cowboys:
if i only knew we were through for the year
i would’ve tried to be perfectly clear
we’ve stumbled before but you’re now on your own
i guess that makes two of us standing alone
-“Through for the year” from Great American Desert
Lubbock County, Texas
photographed 10.6.2013
The edge of Earth
My cousins lived in Earth, so you can only imagine that they heard every single ridiculous joke about their town’s name. At our house, when it was time to go up there for a visit, my dad would say we were “going to Earth.” It never got old. (Although it probably should have, at some point!)
These days there’s not much left in Earth. My cousins all moved away, and I can assume that most of their classmates did, too. There’s just not much going on around Earth these days. The Dairy Queen is closed, and so is this service station, out on the edge of Earth, along the highway to Springlake.
It’s not a new story.
Earth, Texas
photographed 5.24.2013
To be sold eventually to strangers, 6
1. Once, when I was in junior high and my dad and I were going through one of our times of not getting along, he sent me a letter. I can only remember two things about it. One was that after my friend Jan read it, she said, “He sounds like a preacher.”
2. After a long career that involved meeting people all the time, and talking to them, and making presentations to City Councils and so forth, my dad has diagnosed himself with social anxiety disorder. (Thanks a lot for that, Mayo Clinic Newsletter.)
3. My mom really was very shy. In groups, especially, until she found one person (or a child: she liked kids) to talk to.
4. Both of them were generally content to spend their time in each other’s company, doing quiet things like reading or sewing. They almost never went out with friends, and as far as I know my dad always came straight home from work at the end of the day. (Right after my dad retired, there was some talk of taking ballroom dancing with another couple, but that never got past the talking-about-it-stage.)
5. They both were active church members. Once, my mom was teaching Sunday School for three year olds – the class was called Toddlers – at the same time my dad taught a class for senior citizens. He dubbed them the Old Toddlers. We laughed about that for a long time, but don’t bring it up any more: now that he is an Old Toddler himself, it might not be quite as amusing as it used to be.
6. So depending on how you look at it, this either makes no sense or a lot of sense: both of them spent years working as volunteer chaplains at the hospital. They’d go on hospital visits every Sunday afternoon, still wearing their good church clothes, and spend a few hours stopping by to visit patients.
7. My deepest admiration goes to them for doing that; it’s not something I could do.
8. It’s been almost fifteen years since Methodist Hospital changed its name (and its religious affiliation, too) to Covenant Medical Center. But, my parents’ nametags from their chaplain days were still in the dresser drawer.
Lubbock, Texas
photographed 9.1.2013
One particular afternoon
A few days later, the season’s first snow would fall.
But on this afternoon, it rained. It was a cold rain, and lasted longer than the normal afternoon showers. After the rain, and some fog, the clouds started to break up. By then it was late afternoon, and a walk around town before dinner seemed like a fine idea. The tourist train had departed for the day, taking most of the town’s visitors with it. The cinders on the unpaved streets had a nice crunchy sound under our feet. The late sun was catching the slopes of yellow where the aspen leaves were turning. The scent of woodsmoke hung over a few houses. The wooden footbridges over the unfortunately-named Cement Creek were slick from rain.
And, over at the Masonic Lodge, the signs over the door were broken.
Silverton, Colorado
photographed 9.20.2009
