Decisions, Decisions

 Watching the steam coming off my freshly brewed coffee and looking at the yellow and brown leaves outside of the window makes me want to stay right where I am. I have no gumption this morning to get up and do my morning dishes. I don’t want to collect the trash from my wastepaper baskets. I don’t want to go to the store to get needed items. Today, I am quite happy to sit here and watch the rain bounce off the leaves. The coffee smells too good to leave it before it cools.

    There are lots of chores I could do with Thanksgiving just a day or two away. But the view through the window keeps calling me back. It has been lightly raining for most of the night. The sounds of it helped me achieve another good night’s sleep. It would’ve been better if the windows had been open but those days have passed, the furnace is on now. As my father used to say, “We aren’t paying to heat Glenshaw!” It also might have been better if there had been a thunder storm, but I’m happy this morning, beggars can’t be choosers. Some say that the excessive amounts of negative ions caused by rain and storms help us to relax and to sleep better. I’ve always belived that, rain always helps me sleep.

    For the time being, the smell of the coffee and the relaxing view of the dancing leaves is enough to keep me relaxed. Occasionally a dark leaf will fall making me think that a bird has flown by. But the birds are elsewhere this morning. The rain is keeping them hidden from me, but they’ll be back once the bird feeders are hung up. That’s another chore for another day.

    The puddles in the yard reflect the tree limbs above them, these perfect images are disturbed as the rings from the rain drops distort the picture. Most of my views are straight out the window, 20 feet off the ground. The puddles are mostly unseen.

    The rain helps quiet the sounds of the morning. It blocks engine noises and horns. The morning trash pick-ups at the business’s below my home aren’t quite as noticeable, if heard at all. The sky is dark; there was no colorful brightening along the horizon this morning. The leaves continue doing their dance and I take another sip of my coffee and contemplate. Should I pick up a book and get lost in it or strike another chore off my list?

    Maybe I’ll just refresh my cup and think about it for awhile!

Then and Now

 One of the constants of our world is change. Whether it is the price of eggs or the hardly discernible changes in the depth of the Grand Canyon, hardly anything stays the same. The height of the trees in our yards and the richness of the paint on our houses, over time it all changes, often in ways we don’t notice.

    When seeing things day after day we tend to overlook the changes if we notice them at all. They become the “new” normal. This is the way they have always looked, or so we think!

    Photography shows us the changes. Pictures show us the ways things used to be, they are a great memory aid! Looking at pictures from the past show us the changes in clothing styles, the cars that used to be driving down our streets and the buildings that used to sit in the empty lot at the end of the block.

    Looking through a pile of old pictures takes us back in time. We remember the events we were at, the family gatherings, both the good ones and the sad ones. Seeing the people that have passed on keeps them present in our minds. Hopefully the dates and details were written on the backsides!

    When I became involved in black and white film photography, I was rather anal about saving my negatives and the proof sheets. During the past year I have been digitally copying these negatives and saving them to a hard drive. I have been reliving the adventures and trips I had taken 30 or 40 years ago. I have been recently attempting to retake some of the pictures I had taken back in the 80’s and 90’s, to show the differences. Some of the reshoots have been taken with a digital camera and some of them, with a film camera. Of course, I enjoyed taking the film shots more than the digital, even though there was a little more time and effort involved with them.

    Here are a few of the pictures from the 80's, the older picture first and then the current shot afterward. Hopefully you will recognize some of the places I visited around the Pittsburgh area! Sadly, not all of the negatives were dated…

East Ohio Street on the North Side, June 1988 & September 2025 

!0^th Street and Exchange Way, January 1984 & July 2025

Liberty Ave. September 1988 and October 2025

 

Rt. 28 bridges from Sharpsburg 1984 & September 2025

16^th Street Bridge & Progress St. 1986 & September 2025 (digital)

Under the Veterans Bridge 1984 & September 2025 (digital)

Chestnut Street, North Side August 1986 & July 2025 

Gas station on Mt. Royal Blvd. April 1986 & September 2025 (digital)

    As you can see, change happens. Sometimes it is for the better and other times... well, you know. All I can say is, remember to date your pictures so you’ll be able to tell when and where they were taken. Our memories aren’t as good as we’d like to think they are! It’s amazing how much can change in 30 or 40 years, memories included!

Imagination

There is a smell to fog that I like. It’s damp and I can’t help but think that it smells fertile. Perhaps it is the water, water that helps things grow, helps keep us fed, and encourages the grass and trees to grow. The fertility of fog works with my imagination also. I can’t help but imagine on foggy mornings. I drive and walk on familiar streets but they all look different, they transform into places I’ve never been to before and the buildings into places I’ve never seen. Reality fades and I wonder what could I be missing.

    Some say that a writer shouldn’t start a story with “the weather.” Yet I find that almost everything I do has been determined by the weather. Should I wear a jacket or take an umbrella? Do I need anything more than a t-shirt?

    Sunny during the afternoon, I might be raking the leaves, trimming the hedges or cutting the grass. Raining outside, I might decide to settle in with a good book. Clear at night and I could be watching the stars or waiting for a satellite to pass overhead. Foggy in the morning, chances are that I’ll be out looking for pictures. Weather determines quite a lot!

    Waking up this morning and looking out of my bedroom window, all I could see was white. Even the trees closest to the house were nothing more than slightly darker shapes in the clouds. I was expecting it, when I went to bed I could see the fog gathering in the valley below the house. I set my camera gear in the hallway.

    I washed up and brushed my teeth and quickly got dressed. I was behind the wheel of the car by 6:30 and driving through the mists.

    The fog dissipated a bit as I drove down into the valley. Crossing the 62^nd Street Bridge (The One-minute Bridge) I was once again driving through a white out. Nearing Pittsburgh, driving through Lawrenceville it started to clear up a little more. The day was brightening and I was able to see a bit further now.

    In the Strip District, the city stood out in the morning sunshine, no signs of fog lingered near-by. I parked and took my camera gear up to the railroad tracks. It was a little after 7 and the Amtrak Pennsylvanian would be leaving the station at 7:30. I originally thought it would be nice to get a picture of it coming through the fog but that was not to be this morning. Still, since I was here, I may as well take another picture of it leaving the city.

    I started setting up, choosing my position, f stop and exposure. I heard a short blast of the train whistle and could see the light of the engine getting brighter. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was only 7:15, it was leaving early?

    As the train neared me, I could see that it wasn’t the engine I was expecting. I saw that there were two engines and a lot more cars behind it than normal. This wasn’t the train I had been waiting for! I later found out it was the Amtrak Floridian which normally stops in Pittsburgh around 5AM. It must’ve been running late today. I watched it as it continued on its way to Florida.

    I walked down the road beside the tracks, trying to see into the station’s train shed, attempting to see if the Pennsylvanian was still at the station. I could just see it; “my train” was still sitting there. I heard another toot and the light brightened; it was leaving the station. Looking at my watch, it was 7:30, right on time. This time it was the engine I was expecting. The Pennsylvanian was starting its trip to Harrisburg and New York City.

    After it passed, I walked back to the car. The Strip District was getting ready for another Saturday morning. Retailers were setting up their tables to display their wares. Trucks were unloading produce and merchandise to be sold to the weekend visitors. I returned home, curious to see how my pictures looked. As I drove back into the suburbs, the fog thickened again.

    I stopped and took a couple final pictures and then headed up the hill to my home. My coffee machine was patiently waiting for me to fill it with coffee grinds and water and then, I could return from my imaginary world, back to reality and get on with the rest of the day.