On this US Thanksgiving Day, in the midst of pandemic and loss, I give thanks for the simple beauty we find along the way.
Sunday evening we managed to get a bunch of us together for an outdoor communion service on the little rise behind the church.
In case you haven’t yet caught on, I love Durand Eastman Park.
Different day, but still gloriously bright. I followed a path along one of the ridges jutting out into Eastman Lake.
Were there is bright sunshine there are also deep shadows.
Simon & Garfunkel’s words have been echoing through my head. I don’t feel old, but I will readily agree that it feels strange to be seventy.
Back when I first heard the song in the 1960s I thought seventy was old. I’m not so sure of that now.
I walked down to the Irondequoit Bay outlet one day last week. These three are looking south from the north end of the bay. The bridge in the distance was completed in 1969. I have been over and under it many times. Two different worlds.
As is my practice, I saved the last frame for home. The afternoon light was bouncing off something bright on the other side of the neighbor’s fence. I decided to try to capture it.
Took the Welta Weltur out last week for the first time in nearly four years. It was a dreary sort of afternoon in Durand Eastman Park, but still lovely.
This was a test roll to see how the old camera was doing and how it responded to different lighting situations. I took several photographs of this tree from the various sides and got rather different photographs.