I make many photos over the course of a year. I thought it would be fun to look back and pick out a few from among my favorites. No particular rhyme nor reason - I just like them.
July. Boston, Massachusetts. I like the musculature along the rower's spine, the glow of the bow and the ripples in the water perpendicular to the distorted ripples from the boat, the splash of the oar.
December. Boston, Massachusetts. I like the general overall harshness and the length of the shadows of the walkers, the low sun streaming through the trees, the glow of the light post and the lines and angles of the walkways.
February. St. Petersburg, Florida. I like the solitary woman standing on the court, the fading daylight and the multiple lights turned on to overcome the darkness, the suggestion of a sport whose time has come and gone, the leading lines of the benches and light poles that reach into the distance.
July. Scituate, Massachusetts. I like the storm clouds over the trees, the lone sail boat returning to safe harbor as the lone paddleboarder heads out, the rain spattered water surface pummeled by the storm.
August. Plymouth, Massachusetts. I like that so much is happening and not happening in such a simple scene: the picnicking family, the empty benches, the tall ship "Mayflower" at her home berth, the multitude of boats at anchor, the stormy clouds and the enveloping shade of the tree branch.
August. Sagamore, Massachusetts. I like the few starkly white clouds, the line of moving, pedaling bicycles stretching off into the distance, the sliver of canal water parallel to the pathway, the silhouette of the lead cyclist with her wisps of hair visible.
September. Berkshires, Massachusetts. I like the two almost parallel trees at the right which converge somewhere above with the almost parallel legs of the human, the jacket that suggests a chill in the air, the web of shadows on the ground.
December. Sagamore, Massachusetts. I like that the snow shapes are virtually indistinguishable from the cloud shapes, the multitude of birds floating on the canal water surface, the sun distorted and broadened into the cloud-sized shape.
I like that freezing all these moments in time to ponder is part of the magic of the photographic art.
What is it about black and white pictures that makes them so beautiful (and also so sad)? I came back to look at these. Thank you for sharing them.
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