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....

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