The sun teetered on the rim of the world before slipping beyond the curvature of the planet and still the big cow stood unmoving by the truck. Crouched several hundred yards away behind a clump of sumac I watched it and waited in the hopes that it would lose interest and move off, … More Home on the range
“How will we do this?” my wife asked. I looked out the window at the Cedar Point Mill and couldn’t help but imagine the entire structure crumbling into the river—with me inside. The cracks and seams spidering the limestone walls seemed wider and more pronounced than during my last visit two … More Time running out
My friend asked, have you ever photographed a cattle auction, and I said, no. Would you like to, she asked. Her offer sounded so—innocent, so devoid of ulterior motive. My suspicions were immediately aroused. I asked for more details. This would be their first homeground auction, combined with two other families. It was a Big … More How we do it here
Music was the great equalizer but exacted its own unyielding toll. It could uplift and resuscitate or deconstruct with ruthless efficiency. But no matter the genre, it was the single universal relevance binding us together, at once a source of solace and suffering, and always partaken of behind closed doors. Our rooms in Grants were … More Hear that lonesome whistle (Part 2)
It was, to say the least, an underwhelming debut. My wife and I, along with dozens of others, were gathered on the graveled edge of the Union Pacific rail yard in Marysville, the old one whose tracks branched off the new bypass to wing like an arrow through the center of town. Only, alas, to … More Hear that lonesome whistle (Part 1)
Up at 5:30 after getting to bed late, wind howling, snow stopped. Made a pot of coffee, dressed in warm clothing, unscrewed the Black Rapid camera strap from the Really Right Stuff L-bracket and stuffed the Nikon D700 with 14-24 m/m lens in the Think Tank camera holster. Everything done by rote but lovingly so. … More Last days, last thoughts (Part 3)
When one door shuts, another opens. Of all the adages we’ve been force-fed since day one, it’s the likeliest to come true and the least likely to be surprising. After all, it’s not as if we give up at the first sign of defeat. We’re built of tougher stuff. Failure is for quitters. That laziness … More Last days, last thoughts (Part 2)
Desperation sets in as the final days of my Vernal Equinox Project bleed away. Four days before the grand finale I didn’t want to go anywhere much less aimlessly search for an image but then I remembered a conversation I’d had several weeks ago with a friend. The sun was low but not that low … More Last days, last thoughts (Part 1)
dispatchesfromkansas 