The texture and movement of a dry trunk’s bark were filled with water. I kept only that part of this beautiful tree that conveyed that.
Although I find humor in a simple fence dissolution, the relationship of tree and fence, both wooden, is rich. The vines, alive and dying also bring them together.
Strong movement in both the diverse color palettes of tree and clouded sky caught my eye.The similarity in shapes worked against this though the space remained deep with the different foci.
My neighborhood is not usually a place where one finds abandoned tires: I am highlighting that through a child’s game I still play to determine order. This is a poignant scene for me since I grew up in this same neighborhood.
This non-planter still holds this plant. This poor plant is not doing as well as it should, no doubt.
Photographs often capture and present moments. To collect these moments and for the great good health of body and mind, I take walks— yes, I walk my neighborhood streets— and capture moments with the camera on my phone. Snap snap. I regularly walk in my neighborhood where I’ve lived for 95% of my life. And, yes, it’s often awfully familiar, but there is always something new to see. Many are worthy of photographing. Snap snap.
BIO: Alan Bern is a retired librarian and a photographer, with awards for his poems and stories. He is also a performer. Lines & Faces, his press: linesandfaces.com.
Keep Reading! Submit! Inspire Others…
If you enjoy these travel stories, please donate $5… We’re committed to remaining advert-free and so your support makes all the difference. Thanks again.