Except when my gaze wanders outside to Bascom Hill, that place of hurried academic movement, year round, up and down and across the green, they march and sit and throw Frisbees and think academic thoughts. Maybe.
Purchase photo 1903
In moments when I am not writing a lecture, I think about photography. I’ve received a handful of helpful comments from readers who know more about art shows than I do. And also from readers with questions. Many ask which photos I’ve selected for my October show. I’ll be more forthcoming later, but I pass to you this invitation:
…if you remember any photo on Ocean that you especially liked, send me a note. I’ve already revamped the portfolio with work that others have pushed to the front and I’ll happily do it again.
In the early evening (or, if the sun has not dipped yet, is it the late afternoon?), Ed and I take a walk along the fields that border his land. Hills, but not of the Bascom sort. Hills of labor, ones requiring stamina. And resilience. Heat, bugs, tough soil. We watch a neighbor ride his tractor between rows of saplings and exchange comments on the weather with the farmers taking a break at the side of the road.
Purchase photo 1902
Purchase photo 1901
It matters here, on the hill. Weather matters. Much more so than on Bascom Hill.
On other hills, children play and fawns romp.
Purchase photo 1900
Purchase photo 1899
