Hello.

Hello everyone. This is Zach, Dan's son. I just want to thank everyone for all the comments about my photos. It's really nice to know that there are people besides me who enjoy my work. I've decided to start being an active contributer to Wood and Pixels. I probably won't be able to post as often as my Dad, but I will try to post as often as I can.

A little about me: I'm in school working on earning my second degree. I love art in all of it's forms, whether it be visual, music or literature. I find that a lot of my inspiration, for any particular medium I'm using, comes from film and music. You'll find that I do things differently than my Dad. While my Dad uses prose to set the stage for his work, I'm going to try to utilize music and poetry to accompany the photos I post in an attempt to create an immersive atmosphere for my photographs. It may not work, but it's worth a shot :)

I'm planning to go on a photo shoot this weekend and I hope to start posting by sometime next week. Have a good week everyone!

Zach

Last week...on a rainy day, I was drawn to Old Town.

The rain had beat down the leaves...the weak among them fell to the wet ground below...partially covering the intricate brick pattern in the old sidewalk. As I pulled back from the sidewalk, I noticed multiple layers of brick in different patterns and laid for different purposes.

The viewfinder was awash with brick...brick to walk on, brick to keep strangers at bay, brick to live within. Each style having it's own texture and color...highlighted by the steady light rain that continued to fog the lens. With the fallen leaves comes the musty smell of decay...one of the most recognizable scents of Autumn as the leaves begin to pile one on the other.


These old streets still allow the burning of leaves...another earthy scent that always reminds me that Winter is not far from these old streets. I am hoping the colors stay a while before they turn to the grays and whites of Winter.

Dan

I recently visited the "old Mill" restaurant in Evansville.

The Old Mill is an Evansville landmark. It has been in business since the early days of Evansville. This is the first restaurant I ever took my girlfriend (now my wife) to. The table at which we sat was at the end of the middle row next to the fireplace.

I am posting this today because it it our 37th anniversary. Short narrative today...I have to go buy a present!

Dan

The bed and breakfast provided a late afternoon respite and solitude.

Nestled in the heart of Missouri wine country is an oasis of calm. The late afternoon warmth of the sun bathed the upper turret room and we settled in for an afternoon of reading and conversation ...both ...something we hadn't done for quite a while. Echoes of Simon and Garfunkel's "Dangling Conversation" hung in the air.

We were now empty nesters...a moniker that we didn't choose...but was inevitably thrust on us. After 18 years of focus on Zach...we now only had each other.

We tried to reconnect...to get to know each other again. "You could hear the ocean roar...lost in the dangling conversation...the borders of our lives". I never knew what that song meant until that afternoon in the turret room of the bed and breakfast.

As I look back on it now...if I had it to do over again...I would have stayed in a more populated environment until we made the adjustment. Any of us with children faces this day. We raise them up...only to let them go. Often letting them go changes the paradigm that we had become accustomed to. Once we become accustomed to re-adjusting relationships again...we realize that this is no more than the circle of life being played out and we were once on the other end...we were leaving the nest.

After the sense of loss diminishes, the next phase becomes the new focus. We get to watch from a distance the blossoming. This photo was taken 4 years ago...I think now is the time to re-visit the bed and breakfast. Wednesday is our anniversary.

Dan

The October Sky is beginning to show it's hand.

The greens of the garden are now giving way to the earthen colors of the next Season. We in Southern Indiana are still in the transition but oncoming golds, rusts and browns of Autumn are not far off for us.

The last flowers are blooming, the late vegetables are now gathered and in the summer kitchen drying for winter's use. We are ready for the change...let the colors begin.

A corona being held in the arms of a cross.....

The juxtaposition of a beer bottle and a cross was striking. My son Zach was photographing an area called the Old Dam near New Harmony Indiana when he came across this sight. This brought to mind the entire struggle of man over the ages...our weak human nature struggling against the higher spiritual yearnings of man.

So much could be read into this image...make of it what you will but in my opinion...we have all known friends and family members who have struggled with this conflict. This would make a great poster for Alcoholics Anonymous.

Zach....you have a keen eye.

Dad

Have a great Sunday everyone.

Hope you are having a great Saturday! I am posting a link in case you want to take a look. I am no conspiracy buff and that is why I am not posting this on my photo blog. But yesterday i was taking a picture of a church and I took 3 consecutive identical images about 1 second apart for an HDR photograph. They require 3 or so digital images and then I merge them together.

Anyway, the 1 shot shows nothing in the sky...the second shot shows..."something"...and the third shot 1 second later and it is gone again??? Strange..if you visit the link...read the captions and let me know what you think.

Thanks,
Dan
Link to Photos of "Something " in the sky!

Details and texture...Some see the with a wide angle lens and some see with a macro lens. The ability to focus in on particular details uncovers the world unseen to many. My style of photography tends to overload at times...bright saturated colors and busy landscapes. It is a nice change of pace to see the world through another's point of view.

There is something to be said about simplicity. When there is only one object in an image...it naturally draws your eye to examine it. Muted colors also cuts the clutter and confusion. My favorite of the three picture that Zach took above is the lone leaf with the telltale signs of transition. It seems to be hanging on as best it can to life...knowing that the end is near. The color has drained except for the the center most areas and soon that will be gold as well. The small patch of earth that surrounds it has already given up the Summer glow and is settling in for the coming freeze.

Nice break today from the often over the top colors of my eye and the chance to see another point of view.

Enjoy Your Saturday.

Dan

Exerpt from "The Spider and the Fly"...

Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly,
'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I've a many curious things to shew when you are there."
Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again." ...............
by Mary Howitt 1821

As I had mentioned earlier this week, My son Zach and I went on a photographic trek last weekend. Today, tomorrow and Sunday I am posting images that Zach took. I was impressed with his "eye". His attention to detail is quite different from me...I tend to look more at the big picture...he sees the smaller pieces of life. I like the contrast to my style so for a change of pace this will be an all Zach weekend...Enjoy.

Dan

The mellow sound of acoustic strings being tugged or struck with a soft felt hammer whether it is coming from a guitar, mandolin, violin or piano always has a calming effect on me.

To me...the sound of strings hearkens back to days of contemplation, rain on the window panes, dreaming of future plans or of that special person perhaps far away. I love lyrics but there are times when only the vibration of strings suffices. They allow me to make my own lyrics to fit the mood. The lyrics aren't words but feelings...emotions. Acoustic music is magical. A ballad takes me on a trip away from the grind of the day to place just for me and me alone. I like to visit those places...known only to me...like old friends I haven't seen for years.

It's raining today...I find myself looking beyond the keyboard...staring out the window...looking at a world outside these walls bathed in a gentle but steady rain.....

Camera in hand...I'm off to visit some old friends.

Dan

Tools of the trade...a remnant from a time before the fire.

I have mentioned before about fishing in Lake of the Woods, Ontario. The small island that we stay at used to have a central cabin where some of the most mouth watering fresh batter fried walleye and homemade cornbread always awaited us on our return from the day's fishing. The cook's name was Irene. She and her husband owned the Island and rented the 5 or so cabins on their 2 acre plot of paradise.

As a child and even into my early 20's I would marvel at their stories of how the surrounding waters would freeze in the winter and the only way to restock supplies was to travel by dogsled over the lake to nearby Nestor Falls about 9 miles away. To a Midwest boy...It was like listening to the Saturday afternoon adventure shows on TV.

In the Summer of 1969 while home from Purdue we returned to the island to find that the winter before, a grease fire had begun in the kitchen and with no water except under the foot thick frozen ice...the fire spread and burnt the kitchen cabin to the ground. With it went years of history...decades of work...and the pioneer spirit of Irene. Shortly after we returned home that Summer, Irene sold the island and moved to Minnesota to retire. The only physical reminders of those wonderful meals and adventure stories that remains unto this day are the few utensils that she used in her kitchen ... they survived the fire. They hang now on a wall in cabin 5. The current owner of the island loves to have someone ask about the utensils...it gives him a chance to recount the stories of Irene and her magnificent batter fried Walleye and homemade cornbread. As he walks to the center of the island to show where the kitchen once stood...he tells the story of the frigid Winter ... the day the cabin burnt.

Irene has long since passed but her name still is mentioned every year during the fishing season at least once or twice when the curious ask. The Walleye is still great, the cornbread still rocks...we now cook it ourselves...but it is just not as good as Irene's.

The settee was so inviting.


Last week I posted about the Victorian house with the porch. This is part of the grounds of the house. Such a serene setting. It was like looking onto a scene from a Jane Austin novel. I expected Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice to skip across the alcove to sit and watch the aristocracy pass by while she dreamed of her future lover.

The environment surrounding the retreat matched the stillness of the captured moment as well. It was dusk..twilight as I took the picture. The rush hour over, everyone in there homes after a days work settling in for the night. The only sounds heard were the birds save one faint distant siren from the near downtown. I am going to visit this scene after a snow...I can imagine the beauty of the snow covered trees with the silence that only a fresh snowfall can provide.

All across America...in mid September...the tradition of high school football returns.

We all go to the games for different reasons. To meet up with friends...even though you may have seen them 2 hours ago in class, to return to our roots...the longer away - the stronger the yearning to revisit those awkward years perhaps a generation ago, or to show the underclassmen what you have made of yourself...Oh and also to see football!

For me it was more to watch the crowd than the football. So many different interactions from the poignant return of the newly out of boot camp marine letting the girls touch the wool of the proudly worn uniform to the incessant ATT conversations on the cell phones...even though the transmitter and reciever may have been only a few rows apart. The traditions of teenage America played out as if on some Shakespearean stage...this could be a tragedy if the home team lost or a comedy of errors if the refs made the wrong calls or an epic battle waged on the grid-iron.

Two things made the night...the "back to school" crisp air and the unhibited energy of our youth. Youth either observed or reliving our youth as if it was yesterday.

Yesterday...Zach called and said we have to go take pictures. He said "I have a real treat for you"!

Thrilled at the prospect of going out on a shoot with Zach...I packed up and met him for the adventure. He took me over to the campus where he goes to College and told me about "The Bunker". After about 45 minutes of walking ...we finally arrived.

I had told him earlier in the year that I was looking for some good graffiti to take pictures of because of the creativity and colors involved. I even went to a train yard hoping to find some graffiti on the some of the cars but no luck.

Yesterday, we hit the jackpot! We had to crawl through some ankle deep water and Eureka...there it was. This is spillway for one of the lakes at the University. Down underneath...even with the water level was this hidden treasure of creativity. I was in heaven. I was also thrilled at the prospect of Zach wanting to shoot pictures. He took one of my cameras and had at it. That is why there is finally a picture of me! I am always taking the pictures and not the subject!

Anyway a great Saturday played out as we "played"...about 5 0r 6 hundred pictures worth.

Have a great Sunday.

Dan

The last throes of Summer is still hanging on in the Midwest.

Even though officially Summer is over...we are now having "Indian Summer". I don't know if that is just a Midwest thing or not...you can fill me in. It is that time of year when everything is progressing normally and then one day you wake up and you have the warm temperatures again...where did that come from? It is only temporary though because the brisk winds of October will soon give way to the biting winds of December. So if you have Indian Summer in your area...grab it with gusto and savor it like a a chocolate covered strawberry..it won't last long.

Have a great weekend.

Dan

It has been a while since I have gotten my "Porch Addiction Fix".

In the old part of town there are a multitude of old Victorian houses built at the turn of the century. Many such as this one have been revived and are restored to their prior glory. This porch extends for two sides of the house. It faces an old brick tree lined street and has probably graced many late night conversations over the years.

Undoubtedly, some of those conversations began or ended with that first goodnight kiss after a night on the town. As a suitor, the young man must have been intimidated by the lavish gardens and well kept grounds as he tried to impress his girl...hoping for that one final expression of affection signaling a desire to see him again. Turning after the exchange...skipping down the steps trying to control his emotions...waiting until he rounded the corner at the end of the street where he could jump to the sky and kick his heels..."I'm gonna see her again".

One of the images from the battle for Fort Vincennes re enactment taken earlier this Spring.

I am posting the photo only as a reminder that the photo was taken almost 5 months ago. Just before Summer began...and now it is already past. Where did Summer go? We often mark our time here on earth with benchmarks like a song, a photograph, a scent, a movie...each time we cross paths with it, our minds wander back to that particular time and place. Even at 60...if I have an AM radio on and Bob Dylan or the Byrds or Neil Young plays...I am thrown back to a white '65 Mustang convertible and reminded of that feeling of being immortal....indestructible.

Time goes too fast for me now...I want to savor the moment whenever I can and that is why I am so thankful for photography. When I am out with my camera...time stands still for just a bit...I am "in the moment" with all other nuisances put out of reach. I treasure that time alone with a camera.

Here is hoping your Summer lasted longer than mine.

Boys on the farm often worked as hard as their father and older brothers. Large families were the norm both because of love of family and also extra hands were needed to plant, harvest and maintain the homestead.

They never questioned the work...it was just a way of life. However, compared to their earlier ancestors...the washing machine in the first picture and the sawmill behind the boy in the last picture was modern technology of the day.

The work ethic was strong in those days...unlike today when a McDonald's manager has to continuously hire due to such a high turnover. Now, I don't want to go back to the difficulties of yesterday...I enjoy the tech toys of today but I do wish we still had the work ethic that was ingrained in young individuals of that time period. My guess is that if we did...so many of today's financial woes from credit card abuse to wall street meltdowns would not take root without fertile ground.

Dan

The visual lines and warmth of wood has always attracted me like a spider to her web. Speaking of Spiders...webs...and creepy things...these pictures were taken at an old library on the national register of historical buildings in Evansville...More about the very interesting past and present of this building on October 31st...which happens to be Halloween????

The interior of the library has some of the most beautiful native oak woodwork I have ever seen. When I take pictures I am always on the lookout for patterns. The grains and wear marks left in wood over the years always provide me with those patterns. The final picture is not cropped from a larger image...it is the patterns that intrigued me. Vertical lines, horizontal lines, curvy scroll lines and even octagonal patterns keep the eye moving from one part of the picture to the next with something new at each glance...and all wood.

Be sure to stop back on Halloween and see a whole different side to this structure...a hint...did you ever get the feeling you are being watched and when you turn around...no one is there?...Well perhaps...just perhaps...someone or something is there.......

To be continued....

Back to school always brings books to mind. Even with today's laptops, netbooks, Kindles, and smart phones...there is still nothing like the feel and smell of a book.

I would wager that everyone reading this post cherishes that time alone...at the end of the day or a day off...maybe the children have gone off to bed, the last touches on tomorrow's presentation are finished and you have your favorite book - glass of wine- and a comfortable chair with just the right reading light...it's just you and the book. You loose yourself in a tangled web of intrigue or walk with that teenager coming of age as you identify to your heart's content.

Books can take us away, they can instruct us...they even scold us at times. I don't what it is but there are certain authors that we follow because we know that their new book will fit us to a "T". Books have been with us since printing presses and even before...they will still be here...mark my words...even in the age of computer ink...because of that feel and the anticipation of turning that next page.

This photo has been hanging around on my computer since last winter. I came across it this weekend while trying to organize some of my shots. I don't know if it comes across in the photo but it was one of those days in the winter when it warms up a bit and you want to get outside...almost a early Spring in the breeze. Taken close to the evening on a gray day...I have often wondered about the story behind the cross. The small outbuilding has been long abandoned and is set off the road .... only visible from the road in winter when the leaves are off the trees.

I took the picture during the time I was reading "The Shack"...a book about a man who had lost his young daughter through an accident in an old shack years ago ...never to return. Through a series of serendipitous events he was finally drawn back to the old shack...where he
mysteriously met and talked to God in the flesh. The old building reminded me of the book.

Was the owner of this old shack crying out for help...professing his faith...I suppose that is up to our imaginations.

If man's creations are left to nature....man will loose.

The remnants of a family now are given back to nature's reclamation. We as humans have a wonderful gift...the gift of memory. Our past often only lives in this realm. Years have taken this home and nature is doing what it does best...reclaim it's property after man has left. The children of this home...now elderly adults remember the home as it was in it's prime. The images and stories connected with home will be passed down to newer generations even though this home will in time cease to exist. It lives on forever in our memories. Oral traditions worldwide, thankfully, preserve out past for us.

Is the sun rising or is it setting?

The link above always comes to mind when I see this picture. This particular image was shot just before sunset...however as Benjamin Franklin so aptly inquired ...it could just as easily be rising.

This was taken just after a recent Summer rainstorm passed through. In the distance you can see the humidity rising of the now cooled ground...so typical in the Midwest.

Have a great Sunday and see you next week.

Dan

Horses are one of God's most elegant creatures.

For the shear pleasure of watching the liquid motion of muscle and co-ordination there is nothing better than the American Saddle Horse . Bred for the comfort of smooth cross country touring...these horses are the Mercedes compared to the Porsche qualities of quarter horses.

It was fun to watch the equine students learning their trade as the horses under them took them for the ride of their life. Proud, strong...animated animals moving along the fence rail in a synchronized ballet...the only sound heard was the hooves striking the dirt and the rhythmical snort of lungs inhaling and exhaling... fueling the engine as they danced.

Dan

There were countless miracles on and after 911 in New York. Humans helping humans again...some say they were angels in human form.

This particular church stands directly across the street from where the towers once stretched to the sky. I visited New York in December after the September tragedy. The church had become a central communications point for those searching for their loved ones. Inside, the banners that adorned the walls were from all over the world. Some thanking for all the volunteer help, banners remembering the lost souls and the brave firefighters and policemen on that day.

Outside lining the sidewalks and front of the church were poignant photos "Looking for....", "Have you seen....", "My husband...the best Father to .....", Janet, mother to be...." The smell of electrical wiring still hung heavy in the air.

Eight years after the tragedy, our human nature tends to put aside tragedy as a coping defense. While completely understandable...the trauma of that day is not lessened by time...it still remains an unconscionable act that ripped the American fabric. It has been said that September 11th, 2001 began "The New Normal"...our life, our privacy rights, our daily activities were inexorably changed on that day.

Prayers for the families who lost loved ones on that cool crisp sunny day in September, I haven't forgotten you and never will.

This time of year is like that day in early Spring when you want to get out into the warm sun but the sun still hangs onto the clouds...not yet releasing it's warmth.

The Autumn is anticipated just as Spring is in April. It is that transition time when the leaves are just beginning to fall but they are still green...the grass is turning the yellow green of early Autumn but the temperatures still rise to the 80's. As the picture above...we are caught between the greens of Summer and the reds and oranges of Autumn.

The great thing about our blogging friends is that we will see the photos of changing leaves from New England long before we see them here...as we in the Midwest, South, Southwest and West wait with anticipation of the Season of beauty.

"See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O that I were a glove upon that hand,
that I might touch that cheek!"



"Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!/ For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."



"O! she doth teach the torches to burn bright"




"O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name.
Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love
And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

Phrases so familiar...they were echoed again for all to hear last week during a Shakespeare festival in an outside venue that we attended. However, this Romeo and Juliet was unlike any I had seen before. It was Shakespeare but set in modern times. An interesting twist on a centuries old love story. Whether the lovers are in the 17th century or the 21st...it is amazing how the issues of families, traditions and rival gangs ring true when it comes to relationships.

Dan

The lake below is what caught my eye.

As we flew over the Rockies, with such rough terrain, just on the east side of the ridge like a natural amphitheater was a frozen lake. I wondered what this landscape looked like in the Summer months...was it hidden from view by tall spruce trees, was it accessible with such steep sides? I thought ...maybe it was the results of the collapse of an ancient volcano...long since cooled and stabilized.

Mountains fascinate me even when viewing them by air. What ancient forces were so strong that they forced up the land into such majestic monuments. The power of our technological advances pale by comparison. Only something with the force and strength of nature can leave a calling card such as this.

As we move into Autumn, the greenhouses and orchards are making ready for the fullness of the harvest.

We visited an orchard over the weekend and the bounty of the fall harvest is becoming more and more obvious. Soon the trees will move from the early green apples to the full reds of the Autumn apple harvest in this part of the Midwest. This is a time that I always look forward to ...a time of the aromas of apple butter boiling in large black pots and the early tinges of crisp Autumn air replacing the Midwest humidity. That time has not yet come here to Indiana but the keepers and growers of the apple orchards are preparing...Late September to Mid October will be here before we know it.

Autumn for me has always been a time of reflection as Spring is a time of anticipation. The continuing cycle of changing seasons always invigorates me but at the same time always reminds me of the short time here on earth that we have to play out our dreams and hopes for the future...a future that seems to be less sure and secure with each generation. Let's hope our grandchildren will still be able to experience the reflections and anticipations of the cycle of the seasons as we do.

Dan