A pair of Whooping Cranes enjoyed a reprieve from the rainy days. The sun came out in south-central Wisconsin after hiding for much of the month behind gray clouds. And the cranes celebrated by splashing, jumping, and striding about in this pond at the International Crane Foundation. They were a joy to behold – such enthusiasm and frolicking.
A Lesson on the Back Roads
It takes discipline to take photographs, and a certain confidence. I don’t score high on life’s quiz when measuring discipline or confidence. But I’m learning – in little ways.
Take, for example, this photo of the two barns. To me, it represents progress. So you might ask, “Progress in photographic skills?” Nope, not what I’m talking about here. Progress in discipline, progress in confidence. If that sounds far-fetched, I’ll explain.
I drive Wisconsin roads at least three times a week for the sole purpose of seeing what there is to see. I routinely have my camera gear with me – that’s habit – so I’m always looking for opportunities to shoot a photograph or two. But here is the sticking point that stops me from even trying to capture many of the photographic opportunities I imagine.
I’m not driving the car. To clarify, here’s a typical scenario:
Bo (craning head as the car zooms down the road): That would make a great shot.
Sherpa (concentrating on driving and catching the Packers’ game on the radio): Do you want me to turn around?
Bo (still looking back in the distance): Uh, no. Never mind.
Sherpa (still zooming down the road): OK.
Bo (thinking silently): That could have been a great shot!
After I repeated this scene more times than I care to admit, I realized the situation was a not an example of great communication skills. And it wasn’t working. I would be a bit miffed that Sherpa hadn’t responded to my comment by stopping the car with squealing brakes and burning rubber. Sherpa had no clue. And truthfully, if he had stopped the car every time I said “that would be a great shot,” we’d be fortunate to travel a mile in an hour.
So I explained this predicament to Sherpa, who truly had no idea I’d really wanted to stop. And we made an agreement. I could say “that would be a great shot” a million times an hour if I wanted. That’s a good plan, because I say those words before I even realize I’ve said them. But, and here’s the simple solution that is my big step of progress, I now ask him to turn around some of the time.
You’d think that wouldn’t have been such a big revelation. Well, it was.
I had to come to terms with a couple of basic facts. Even after 33 years of marriage, the guy still cannot read my mind. He will never be able to read my mind, so if I want to take a photograph, and I don’t want to stick my camera out the car window for a drive-by shooting, then I need to say those magic words.
“Yes. Please turn around.”
It works.
Ah, such a simple solution. (You think?)
Bryant Park
Bryant Park is located on the same block as the New York Public Library in Manhattan. It has a lot of diversity for its size, sporting several cafes and eating spots, a football field-sized lawn where weekly movies are shown during the summer, sculptures of famous New Yorkers, a carousel, and hundreds of chairs, tables, and benches for sitting and relaxing.
Gertrude Stein
Gertrude Stein, sitting cross-legged rather like a Buddha, is one of 5 statues in Bryant Park. It’s prominently located on the terrace, on the park side of the New York Public Library. The cast was done by Jo Davidson in 1923, long before Stein had become famous as a literary figure and supporter, and was installed in the park in 1992. Amazing to me, this was the first public statue of an American woman placed in the whole of New York City, and that was done only 17 years ago.
New York Cityscape
I walked to the New York Public Library, one of 150 buildings on the favorites list of the American Institute of Architects, but it is undergoing extensive renovation and was cloaked in plastic and canvas. Not able to see except for the pair of lion statues at the massive front entrance.
So I wandered around Bryant Park and finally found a rocking chair–yes, a rocker, solid wood, comfy, on a patio in the park–where I spent an hour or two observing all the activity, writing in my journal, and dozing a bit. As I was leaving the park, I photographed this city and cloud reflection on the building on 42nd Street and 6th Avenue — the merging of city and nature.
According to an informational sign in the park on the architecture on the square, this is the Home Box Office Building designed in 1985 by Kohn Pedersen Fox.




