Tag Archives: Weekly Photo Challenge

WPC: Ruffled Texture

09 Wednesday Aug 2017

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This holiday Monday, I spent almost 3 hours taking over 200 photos using the ruffles in a bridal bouquet of blush and pale mauve roses. My parents were awarded them for being the oldest married couple at a family wedding. 🙂

Don’t worry – I’m only posting 2 today: something old and something new!

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My Grandmother’s Wedding Bands

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My Wedding Bands

The real act of marriage takes place in the heart, not in the ballroom or church or synagogue. It’s a choice you make – not just on your wedding day, but over and over again – and that choice is reflected in the way you treat your husband or wife. Barbara De Angelis

Happy Wednesday!

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WPC: Bridge

10 Monday Jul 2017

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Bridges and rivers seem to bring back childhood memories.

First, there was the bridge near my Grandmother’s house in the summer, where I’d throw sticks in on one side and race over to the other side to see which one came out first. There were no cars to worry about. The bridge itself a single lane and the barrier a single, thick wire. I dropped her binoculars once and she had to climb down the rocky bank to retrieve it.

There’s the bridge near my parents’ home, named after a family of escaped slaves, where we’d ride our bikes in the summer, now just remains.

There were the bridges WPC: Frame & Rare) from last summer’s vacation. Below are photos of the train bridge over the river – different years and in all 4 seasons.

 

Top left: Winter mist; Top right: Spring; Middle right: Fall; Bottom: Summer

To see more photographic interpretations of Bridge, click here.

WPC: Passage of Time

04 Tuesday Jul 2017

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A large, empty building, built in the early 1940’s, once a hub of activity for mechanics and pilots preparing for war, now a haven for swallows and small, recreational planes.

For this week’s challenge, share a photo that symbolizes transitions, changes and the passage of time.

Airplane Hangar 2

 

The office and tool building was built in the centre, and the markings for the tools are still on the walls inside the tiny room. The stairs to the upper rooms are gone, and there were no markings inside to even hint at the men who once worked and laughed inside. Just a couple of labels still glued to the wall.

They were people … who disappeared little by little in their own time, turning into memories, mists from other days, until they were absorbed into oblivion.
– Gabriel GarcĂ­a Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

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WPC: Focus: Never Grow Old

19 Monday Jun 2017

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There’s something magical about bubbles, something fairy-like about their delicate iridescence and their fragile form. Their moment in time whispering childlike wonderment and happy memories as they float away.

This week’s challenge was about focus, and anyone who has made soap bubbles knows that it takes focus and patience, and often multiple attempts to form these airy spheres. Little Guy was my assistant on this particular sunny day, as I attempted over and over to capture these bubbles in time. Instead, my camera shifted the focus from the bubble to my boy, and I captured a even better moment in time! Just like this bubble, this precious child is growing up and the little boy I adore is floating away. I marvel at who he is becoming and like a bubble, I have to set him free so that he may attain his full beauty. And as he grows older, I pray his spirit never grows old.

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Youth is happy because it has the capacity to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old. – Franz Kafka

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WPC: Heritage

23 Tuesday May 2017

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Three generations are buried in the cemetery near the former farmhouse. My great-great grandmother walked to the family woods nearby, dug up and replanted an evergreen tree at the family plot. That tree is gone now but the pallbearers had to step carefully when we buried my grandmother in 2014.  I can still picture it from the road, tall and lean, against the sky.

Out of curiousity last night, I searched the name of my great-great-great-grandparents and I found an interesting thread. Though some of the information differed (the date they left Ireland and one surname), there were some similarities (town in Ireland, 10 children – one dying at sea, and the date of their deaths (3 weeks apart)! I’m excited to dig deeper.

A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots. – Marcus Garvey

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