Posts Tagged ‘Green Bay’

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts.

My very best wishes to you.  May you be wildly successful in every part you play this year.

stage door

Door #12, final offering in a 12-part series.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the door series.  In the process of choosing twelve, I found many others that I really like. I’ll continue to post more doors–just not daily. (You deserve a break.)

Because people have been kind enough to ask: it’s been two weeks since my grandson’s accident. He can shuffle down the hall with assistance, message friends on FB and might even get some broth (!) in another day or two. All in all, progressing well.

A long and semi-cranky day rescued by a visit to Communiversity Park.

Wandered around, making friends with the trees.

You can get a very cool perspective if you hug the trunk of the tree and shoot straight up.

A few cars came and went. No one stayed more than a minute or so.

Perhaps the sight of a lone woman embracing trees while balancing a camera on her forehead was off-putting for them.

People can be funny like that.

On my way home from shooting trees and fog on the Bay on Wednesday, I couldn’t stop checking out the shoreline. On impulse, I pulled down the road leading to Joliet Park.

Joliet is more of a parkette. Or maybe a pocket park. Mostly, it’s a gravel turn-around at the bottom of a short-but-steep hill that offers no-frills public access to the shore, provided that you’re willing to climb down some rocks and whatnot.

 No one else there–just a pickup and a bike.

Through the trees and brush, I could see a man dressed in camouflage sitting on a chair in the water quite a ways down the shore.

Now, this is just a picky sidebar, but if you are sitting out in the open, surrounded by water, shouldn’t your camouflage theme be fish-based or water colored?

I’m just saying.

Anyway, he’s sitting next to a sandbar and on the other side are a whole mess of ducks.

Tres cool! This guy was undoubtedly the Dr. Doolittle of the migratory fowl world, communing with the birds and filming a duck documentary for the Nature Channel. I scrambled/crawled/worked my way down the embankment to get an unobstructed view of the Duck Whisperer. (And, in the event said DW was hostile to humans, I left my car running and the door ajar. I’m old, but I was pretty sure I had a solid lead on the guy.)

Alas, the Reality Train didn’t even pass within hailing distance of the story I’d woven.

Enter the owner of the bike, a delightful 12-year-old named Alex who set me (politely) straight in a hurry.

Dr. Doolittle wasn’t chatting with the ducks. He wasn’t there to film them.

He was–gasp–an Assassin Most Fowl.

“Then why are all those ducks crowded around him?”

Oops. Those weren’t ducks. They were decoys.

Fine. I’d overlaid the wrong story on this scene but I will stand by the quiet beauty of the picture.

And you need to blow it up quite a bit before you can see the gun.

While I had fully intended to follow up yesterday’s post on the windows of Rochester with one more related piece, I am powerless in the face of the mist that blanketed our area today.

I started strong. I had a fully-loaded “To Do” list and left the house at 10 a.m., resolutely ignoring the great fog curling around the house (you go,  Carl Sandburg.) Refused to pack my camera gear so as to not get distracted and make bad decisions: Go to class? Go take pictures? Hmmm…

Checklist wrapped and homeward-bound around 3:00, I drove along the lower road near the Bay and that was it for me. Raced home (fueled by the residuals of the 11 a.m. triple-shot latte) and,  playing the witch-on-a-bike music from Wizard of Oz in my head, grabbed my gear and was back at Communiversity Park in minutes.

What you can see in these shots is the rock and muck near the shore and beyond that, the actual Green Bay itself, fog-shrouded and invisible. Sans fog, you’d be able to see Suamico on the other side of the Bay. You’ll just need to take my word on this.

It’s actually taken me a while to learn how to shoot in the fog and I’m always so delighted when I get it right.

And, once again, I saved my favorite for last.

If yesterday’s post was a poem writ in veggies, today’s is a full-throated  and deep-voiced  barrel-chested Pumpkin Song.

Of the 12 or 15 pumpkin pictures I took at the Farmers Market, I concentrated on the stems and tops.  Didn’t think about it.  Didn’t plan it.  Just did it and didn’t realize it until I downloaded  the pictures. If you want to play word association games and the word “pumpkin” gets lobbed at you, I think it’s a safe bet that you will fire back “Orange” or “Halloween” or even “Great” but I will wager that “Stem” doesn’t make the cut.

And finally, as a soft and graceful ending to this Pumpkin Song:

For the first day of Fall, an early morning visit to our local Farmers Market. Visual poetry in blazing color using vegetables as verbs.

Tomorrow: The pumpkins wrote poetry of their own.

Yesterday’s post was a quick history of the Zippin Pippin, Green Bay’s wooden roller coaster with Elvis Presley connections. I wanted to give some big context shots first, then zero in on construction details from under the Pippin.

Today, I offer the details with little narrative. (I say that now, but I’ll be inserting opinions as I go…can’t help myself.)

Choosing which pictures to share turned out to be far harder than I thought. I was looking for lines, for angles, wood grain, metal plates, bolts,  and the Zippin Pippin site provides all of that and more.

I really like this next one: wood, bolts, angles ? Check.  A nice bit of internal curve? Check.  For a bonus: a shot of the tracks tucked in the center.

The final picture is so different from all the rest of the Pippin pics, I had to include it. I think it could stand nicely on its own.

You know this is part of a roller coaster, but a casual viewer wouldn’t.

Shooting pretty much right into the sun blew out the background, which I didn’t mind and I chose to keep the little sun flare in the right hand corner simply because I liked it.

I realized that I have a whole sub-set of ZP shots: shooting straight up into the scaffolding and the sky beyond creates some really interesting pictures. I’ll gather those for a future post.