Tomatoes and Onion

Story Tellers

     Photographing Feet is an old, fallback photo theme of mine. When bored in public places I sometimes focus on feet.  With my Midwestern background, it feels just perverted enough to be fun. The fun fetish includes both knowing and non-suspecting Feet. 

The object of entertainment with Feet is to simply observe and react with my little Kodak M853. Assignment Spec's: Quickly compose a scene which includes feet, but never faces, and make a snapshot that could provoke a story ... or move a plot along. 

1. Feet     2. No Faces     3. Story line

Some of stories may be more intimate. 

Other stories reveal visual tensions.

Some feet demand attention.

Where are they going?

Airports and train stations make great hunting grounds for Feet.

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A Murder of Crows

Crows ~
     Bright, Social, and Noisy. They live all over the world; in Florida as well as, the Punjab of Northern India. Crows, I've heard, are attracted to shiny objects and will steal your silver ear rings, if given half a chance.

A Murder of Crows

A great gathering (murdering) of crows occurs daily in my neighborhood; in fact, they migrate en masse, moving from one large tree top to another several residential blocks away. Noisy, luminescent creatures, crows spar for highest position in the tree, jumping on each other, exchanging places. Then, after everyone seems to settle down for awhile, they suddenly break camp, make room for straggling newbies, and fly to the distant gathering spot.

My FB friend, Bina Gupta, tells me that in the Punjab countryside of Northern India crows announced visitors with their cawing. Crows are so social they also gather before storms to find common shelter, I would presume. However, Folk lore says gathering crows bring bad news, or good news, depending on the direction from which the gathering came. American Indian lore reveres crows and ravens. Some people believe crows are the Go-Betweens of Two Realms

Crows told me something about myself. They informed me of my prejudice regarding them. I've seen their Raven cousins, at the Tower of London; they are scary-big, and raucous creatures who made me cover my eyes, sympatico with historical victims.

Now, I can't watch crows without an initial shudder.

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Flying Lessons

These days Marty's Hawk is involved in a continuing education. Twice a day, in the mid-morning and mid-afternoon, we hear the young female's mother encouraging her on to make flights between the tallest neighborhood trees.

During the first few days after the young female appeared, I would grab my camera when the piercing calls of Mama hawk beckoned. Outside with camera, I hear a swoosh and the hawk flies directly over my head landing in a tree on the other side of the house. Near, yet so very far away.

These birds are not exhibitionists; rarely do they pause for photo opportunities. What's more, the flying lessons range throughout the neighborhood; my guess is they are working within a two-mile radius of my own perch. A rapid bicycle ride to this distant oak tree yielded a little viewing for this bird watcher. The next tree-to-tree flight produces an exhausted bicyclist-voyeur with a dangling camera. I need wings to follow.

However, these beautiful girls don't care much about followers. I take the hint, turn off my camera, and bask in the good fortune of having gotten a few photos.

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