Out Back

To call what I do with my little camera, "photography," seems silly. I am very much just a point and click man. But this time back to the old place in Pennsylvania, I thought I'd best keep my camera with me, as some of what is there may not be there much longer.

Despite my well earned reputation as an enemy of exercise and an opponent of the outdoors, I did grow up surrounded by what city and suburban folks call "nature." I walked out into it every day. I had no choice then; nature was what stood between me and wherever I would rather be. Still, even as I longed to live in a place with sidewalks, I understood that real quiet was something that couldn't be had in a city. Solitude, I've found, is something into which one may drop even on a crowded bus, but silence, of the buzzing, windy kind, I do miss now and again.

And so I went for a walk and followed the old way, skirting what we now know to call, "wetlands," and back into the woods. This much, I must admit, I miss. I still don't know that I would travel any distance to be again in such a place, but to walk out after supper and find it again, there is a distinct pleasure in that.






When the Big Box store comes soon, and it will, and all this is gone, even I will feel the loss of it.