Tales of Two Cities

We Will Always Have Yesterday

We woke up yesterday morning to a winter wonderland.  Tree branches were encased in sparkling, white snow.  The dirty remains of accumulated, packed, old snow and ice was covered with lovely white fluff making everything seem new.

Well, maybe not quite new (I should have gotten up earlier), but close enough to make me throw open my bedroom window to take some photographs.  

Although we are very busy trying to get organized for Wednesday's departure for Paris ("trying" being the operative word -  my organizational skills have gone into hibernation), we took a walk in the early afternoon.

The picture below was taken in the Boston Public Garden where almost everything was in black and white except the willow trees. 

It has been a hard, dispiriting winter.  Yesterday gave us a break - a chance to enjoy the beauty of snow in the city.

Today is is sleeting.  It is bone chilling cold.  Not to worry.

We will always have yesterday. And Paris.

 

 

 

The Gift of Time

It was February school vacation last week and our 6 1/2 year old granddaughter, Emily, came to visit for three days.

What a delight it was to spend time with her.  At her request, we visited both the Museum of Science and the New England Aquarium.  In addition, she had two play dates with our neighbor's daughter, also a first grader.

The museums were very crowded, which was only to be expected as the children were all out of school  The crowds were especially difficult at the Aquarium where there is less space for visitors and where strollers - including double wides  - are permitted throughout, causing traffic jams not to mention banged up shins.

As you can see, Em had great fun outside watching the seals cavort. 

As always, Em was thrilled with our rides on the T and the chance to ride on escalators, which she loves. 

She delighted in finding our kitties and petting them gently before racing off to do something else. Though I doubt the kitties were nearly as delighted as Emily was, they are no longer afraid of her, which is a big improvement.

She played scrabble with her grandfather and, in the end, the most questionable words on the board were his not hers.

We all had lots of fun and skimped on sleep so, by the time we delivered Emily back to her mother, she and we were exhausted.  But happy.  

It is such a gift to be able to spend time with our energetic, creative, funny, sweet-tempered (most of the time) granddaughter.

Setting and Meeting Goals

On January 15 last year I began a year-long project with the goal of posting a photograph every day. The catch was that the picture had to be taken on that day.  My undertaking was inspired by similar projects of photographers whose work I follow and by a charming book given to me by my granddaughter, Meg, called A Year of Mornings 3191 Miles Apart. 

The project year ended on January 14, 2011 with a total of 323 posted photographs.  Looking at my two galleries is like reading a diary of my day to day life last year, my daily environments and my travels.

I'm glad I did it. I love many of the photographs. But, honestly, despite the advice that to become a better photographer you should pick up your camera and take pictures every day, my project  seemed to stifled my creativity.  Looking over my year of photographs, I don't think that is really true, but I feel as though that is what happened. However I frame my thoughts about it, I lost the joy I used to feel in being so inspired by the world around me that I had to pick up my camera.

So where do I go from here?  There is no conventional advice that answers that question. Just continuing to shoot for shooting's sake without more won't cut it.

The bottom line is that I know what I love to do and that is what I must do.  The truth is that I have not had the courage or the energy to make it happen.  I need to fish or cut bait.  I need to screw my courage to the sticking point.  This is where the rubber hits the road. 2011 has to be the year.

 And I suppose it will be.

One way or the other.