“Who you gonna believe, me or your lying eyes ?” Chico Marx, from the movie Duck Soup (slightly reworked)
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This is one of the ways to get to the guest house, located on the other side of the road from where Nina Gitana lived.
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As autumn peaks in VT, so too does the sense of mystery across the landscape. The light is receding, and a quietness emerges, even as the colors seek their greatest brilliance. We begin moving back into ourselves, readying for the winter ahead, as does the land.
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This one, a scan from 120mm format slide film, goes back a ways. The mood strikes me as a balanced one, all in all: the high cloud cover is neither light nor dark, and the nature of a ferry ride is that you’re neither here nor there.
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The Quiet Valley Quilting Guild has sponsored an annual Quilt Festival, currently held on the 2nd weekend after Labor Day, for the past 17 years. 220 quilts were entered this year, including one from a 7 year old. Above is a section from Nelli Knapp’s “My Zen Quilt”.
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There are some photographs that just cry out for more than my usual (i.e., minimal) post-processing, which I mostly refrain from doing. But sometimes I like to see where it goes …
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Lexy is one of three Haflingers that share the pastures with a number of other horses and a burro. It’s always nice to come around the corner and see where they’re all at and what they’re up to. Most of the time they’re grazing, sometimes at the fence waiting for the evening rations, occasionally just galloping around the fields, and, every once in awhile, someone will be on the ground kicking the air. In this shot, she seems to be in a peaceful state of relaxation (do horses meditate?); I think short of sleeping as we were just interacting a minute before.
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Photographing total strangers at close range in public spaces can be challenging for any number of reasons. The initial difficulty is the fact that it’s inherently an intrusive act, which can get in the way of establishing rapport. Second, it requires some level of acceptance and commitment on the part of the subject(s), which might never materialize. Finally all the technical/artsy considerations come into play: composition, depth of field, background, the decisive moment, breathing, etc. etc. Probably thirty seconds elapsed between my first glimpse of these folks, requesting permission to photograph, and taking 4 frames. Thirty seconds seemed a comfortable span of time for all of us, perhaps the limit. Could I have done better with that time ? With more time ? Probably, but “close enough” is much underrated in in the art and science of photography.
This was the first frame, and I like it the best of the series, despite a busy background, and even though the last shot (below) has a simpler composition.
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There’s probably no finer swimming area in southern VT than the NEPCO picnic grounds on the southern side of Harriman Reservoir: clean, cold water, few people, and access to miles of shoreline. It’s a dreamy place, with high mountain views to the north and west, where it’s easy to wile away a summer day, whatever the weather. Here, a storm is brewing.
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It’ll probably be awhile before I make it out to the Plains states, if I ever do, but this gets me in the spirit. The man here was planting the field by hand, seeds in a bag at his waist.
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