Take The Shot When You See It

William Lewis

Eau Claire, Wisconsin
William Lewis
It might not be there later. We know that in our minds but sometimes we get reminded of it.

I have subjects I go back to repeatedly. I call them my "usual suspects" after Casablanca. This is one of them.
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No more for that one. I'm just glad I got it across as many seasons and in as many different lights as I did.
Always kind of sad to see a familiar old structure go. There've been a couple of old barns on the highway in Oregon I'd travel past which have either fallen apart or been torn down over the years (of course, we're talking about a decade or more of traveling past them, but when you think about how old the structures originally were, it's too bad). Nicely captured -- though I'm surprised about the dust/debris on some of them. Were these film shots you digitized, or did your sensor have some dust issues?
The dust surprised me today too, especially on the last one - with my cat, my screen almost always has dust on it but usually not the camera, so I thought it was from that. I didn't notice it till after the up load. I'll have to do a sensor cleaning.
This reminds me of something which happened to a friend of mine while we were studying A-level biology many years ago.

Part of the coursework was to undertake a ‘tree study’ – we each chose a tree and recorded what happened to it over the course of a year. Every month we would comment on any changes, draw pictures of leaves or fruit, and put sections under the microscope and draw those. Being lazy and unimaginative, I chose a nondescript tree growing in a grass verge near the house, and similarly my friend Alan chose a tree right outside his house, planted by the council in a gap in the paving.

We all took pictures of our trees every month because that was easy and filled the file up nicely. Alan did this too, and took pictures of his chosen tree for several months until one day he came home from college to discover that the council, in its wisdom, had cut the tree down and all that was left was a stump about one foot high. Not knowing what else to do, he took a picture of the stump to go in the file.

The following month, the council returned and ground out the stump, leaving a muddy patch scattered with wood chippings. So Alan dutifully took a picture of that, too, and stuck it in his file.

I think the final photograph was of a new section of paving slabs where the tree had once been.

I found the whole business rather poignant. Alan went on to study biology at university, so I don’t think he was too mentally scarred by it.