World Photography Day

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A few hundred words about hot air balloons on World Photography Day in the heart of New England.

Submitted: August 28, 2016

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Submitted: August 28, 2016

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Yesterday was World Photography Day. I Googled it just to make sure it was a recognized holiday and to verify the correct date. Sure enough, August nineteenth it was. I had that in mind on my way to work, having been made aware by one the sites I visit on my computer each morning. So my commute to work is three minutes, driveway to parking lot. Five, if there’s traffic. In those three to five minutes on those winding roads through two different towns, I occasionally see interesting things that would make good photographs. For instance, I often encounter wildlife on the ride. Like the flock, or is it a gang, of turkeys that habitually cause rubbernecking, and the speedy chipmunks and squirrels that dart in front of the car, and the herons and hawks that fly low across the road, gaining altitude on their flight from the river. And then there's the population of local turtles that mosey across my work driveway as it meanders along the course of the river, and the set of beavers that waddle/sprint to the stone wall surrounding the football field when they realize my car is coming. I’ll take pictures of them all with the invisible camera my brother Tom gave me, the snapshot forever stored in the photo file of my mind. At least until my body starts deleting those files. During my drive yesterday I didn’t see the turkeys or the turtles or the beavers, or maybe I didn’t notice, because I was trying to focus on a hot air balloon rising above the trees across the river, hardly visible because of the thick overgrowth between it and me. As I crossed over the river, looking skyward I could clearly see that it was one of several, sporting colorful, attractive designs, ascending into the peaceful morning sky over the Assabet Valley. Once settled into my parking spot, I watched one, then two, then three buckets full of folk rise above the earth, every few seconds a discharge of huge flame above their heads forcing hot air into the massive inflatables, giving them speedy rise into the friendly skies to join the herons and the hawks. I took some snapshots of them with my phone while joking about Oz and Kansas with a gang, or is it a flock, of cheerful ladies passing by on their Friday morning walk. Most times if I have a choice, I’ll take one of Tom’s kind of photos. I’ll leave the other kind to Cidalia and Pati, and to a couple friends named Mike and a couple more named Steve, who have always amazed, entertained and baffled me with their photos. I hope amateur and professional photographers everywhere enjoyed the day, you deserve it.


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