There is something about driving a hundred miles before dawn, setting up in a little place ten miles from the freeway which, a day before, was only a little spot on a map with no other reference. With a warm coffee from some small store out there in the country, I stood behind my camera mounted firmly on a tripod, and looked at the scene. There in front of me would be a nice turn of the century iron railroad bridge, unencumbered by the pace of modern life.
Or maybe it would be an old cemetery, off the road a couple of miles, with headstones made of marble slowly eroding from the effects of natural elements. The subject itself is not what was important, but rather the fact that I was there at all, viewing it, taking in the scene, about to capture it on film.
These moments--just before I would start to work--these were the moments that stay with me. Maybe it’s because I am analyzing every aspect of the scene, trying to get the best shot. Or maybe, I am just enjoying life to the fullest, in search of new experiences or new places. Whatever, I didn't care what the reason was, I was just happy to be there. I suspect many photographers go through the same things and feel many of the same emotions. I look back over my photographs of that time and they take me right back there, as if I had never left. And with my constantly faltering memory, that is a blessing indeed!
To be continued....