Photography Thinks
Sharon would not remove her “Soup Kitchen” volunteer hat. SHE doesn’t want thanks or commendations. She is so happy to help to make a difference. And she raised $1,ooo dollars, too.
But here at Morikami, she’s at rest, smiling, looking at the trees, walking in our wooded paradise.
As a photog, all I can do is frame the shot and push the shutter. The camera and the model do the rest.
I suppose if you were going to pick a place to check your e-mail, it would not be a an island in the middle of Boynton Beach Blvd. But maybe it would if you didn’t have another place to sit or your mental health professional didn’t show up for work during the Government shutdown. Well, it is Florida, after all.
Saw the web. Switched to Macro. Had the Greg Williams setting on my new camera. Then I walked into the web.
Not sure why I buy these, but I can always dream. Just like to get my money back. Well, at least some of the money goes to fund education, though in Florida, where there is censorship and altered history (slaughter of native americans by Trumps favorite president – andy jackson), education and vaccines are not appreciated.
In 2015, we continued our escape. Moved to Florida where Jews used to go to die. Bought a condo in West Boynton Beach, a place not near a beach. Situated in an Agricultural Reserve, restaurants, grocery stores and a movie theatre were a straight line’s drive away. Buses drove farmworkers to the fields. Today, no farm workers and no farms. The absence of the former is unrelated to the latter.
Art Jacoby, my photo buddy, and I returned to Morikami for a walk which we had not taken together since I got sick in March. I got some of my usual shots, as did he. And I made it around.
There is always a group that wants a picture. They asked Art, because, as one said, he has the bigger camera. I love group shots. Set up my own shot, shot and gave the group leader a card. We will see if he contacts me.
The gardens are not in full bloom, because even Florida has winter, leaving fewer places to hide. Paredeolia runs rampant in that place.
Just enough places to take a brief nap, though, amidst the trees and falls.
My cousin Liz just moved to an assisted living facility near us. We visited today, exchanged some health information and conversated. We were happy when we left, because we knew she was safer than when she lived by herself.
Just cannot do anything except be there, give her a little love and attention.
Della the cat, seen here getting ready to paw a shoe, keeps her company.
Lost a favored plant yesterday, a Bromeliad Imperialis. Very sad. It graced our simple, humble garden, providing class and style. No post mortem, yet, could have been water or insects. Doesn’t matter why; just too bad we lost it.
So, these bromeliads just sit where we place them. They are from the air plant family, too big for household entertainment. Some of their beauty lies hidden within, protected by layers of leaves. The flower once. In the end, bromeliads sometimes kill themselves trying to multiply, leaving a legacy, but no history. They are indigenous to Florida, withstanding the changes in weather and temperature, while lending exotic flavors to outdoor spaces.
Our gardner, Richard King who designed our simple plot with Sharon, lost one too, recently. We both will be finding replacements.
So, last night Argus visited me during sleep. He never closes his eyes, looking into the future and remembering the past. Both for me seem pretty scary.
I have never gained control over the remnants of my past trauma or regained any sense I had control over the smashup that stole my career and adulthood. Even my understanding wife has had a tough time living with it. So it goes.
The future remains dim, too, now that I face a multitude of physical problems: blood, skin and spine being the most pressing. But I forage on, trying as I might try to live in the present, always valueing what I have, rather than what I lost which will never again be within my reach. No more dreams or long range plans.
Florida is the kind of place where many leave behind their real lives.
Keep Your Distance