Archive for the ‘Aging’ Category

My fall garden is graced by tall and still-elegant Queen Anne’s Lace gone to seed.  Despite her wild nature,  she is permitted to hold court in any of my gardens as long as she chooses.



A dense green canopy filters the sunlight,  green plants are working hard to reclaim these wrecks and, for a photographic trifecta, what is left of the paint job on the Pontiac is green as well.

I love this part: you can see the leafy growth on the driver’s side fender. Those same leaves are mirrored, but as shadow-shapes on the passenger’s side.

Nice touch, Mother Nature. Nice touch.



As you’ve probably noticed, I do maybe 0% people shots, but in this case I couldn’t let the moment go. I took two shots: in one the man is alone. In the other, the girls have passed him by. Just for visuals, I prefer the solo version, but for a more powerful statement, I chose this one.


I have returned to this site so often that Homeland Security probably has me on their watch list. My goal (obsession?) has been to make the Pulliam Plant beautiful…or at least something other than hardcore industrial gritty. 

A strange goal, I’ll have to admit, given that I love me some industrial gritty. At any rate, these three pictures are as close as I have come to my goal so far.



I may even have succeeded in a little romance on this last one, though the result feels akin to shooting an aging diva through a Vaseline-coated filter.


A pause from the world of ore docks and iron mines…

world flipped over

I celebrated a milestone birthday this weekend–one that forced me to admit I can’t fake it anymore. I really do belong to that OTHER age group now. For two months prior to the big day, I fretted about what it meant globally, personally and  cosmically.  I practiced saying my new age aloud to anyone who would listen. It was like I had Birthday-Specific Tourette’s. People skittered away from me in the grocery store.

I never ever imagined myself being this old. Seriously. Not ever, and I worry because as I continue to scooch down the demographic bench,  I am getting a lot closer to that other edge.

However, after a few weeks of making these spontaneous age announcements, it was obvious to even a self-obsessed  person such as myself that no one–no one!– gives a flying fiddle how old I am. 

That epiphany came packaged with the realization that I don’t actually care, either. I just thought I was supposed to.

The whole ACK! thing flipped over into a YES!

Bring it on!

(And if I can prove that I’m really okay, they will let me back into the grocery store.)

No fakery in the shot above. I flipped a reflection shot over for a different perspective.