The 31st of the 7th

It's 2:30 AM as I pull out of a warm bed, make a coffee for the road and leave the island of Chincoteague, Virginia.  I have been photographing beach life and wildlife on Assateague Island and today is a short road trip south to Virginia Beach.  No not for the "Girls of Ginny Beach", but rather for the lighthouses at Fort Story.  Yeah, I know I need a life.

At that time of the morning there is nothing on the road except the early morning delivery guys, cops lying in wait, and road kill either fresh or waiting in the bushes to make the fatal dash.  Reminds me of the commercial of the two squirrels hi-fiving after crossing the road in front of traffic and making a driver execute a careening stop.  But I digress.  The eastern shore of Virginia has been  semi "Found" but most of the development is well off Route 13.  The only stop to be had of consequence is just before the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnels at a place called "StingRays".  This is a mandatory stop, people!  A truck stop, convenience store, tourist trap, down home cookin restaurant and gas station.  The only place in the world to be seen when one is travelling on the Eastern Shore of Virginia.  Local attendees range from the farmers, farm hands, tourists, truck drivers and fishermen.  And waitresses that are quick of deed and mouth.  The omelets are the size of cow flops and the coffee is rich and black.  Want a replacement for your apple or a cheap knock off of a lady's pocketbook or a confederate flag...they got it.  I don't know their address specifically, but "Stingray's" is somewhere between Cape Charles and the bay bridge on the north side of the highway.

I get to Fort Story just in time to see the sunrise.  This is called good planning on my part.  The sky is colorful with only a smattering of clouds and this is called good planning on God's part.  Or maybe just plain my own dumb luck.

Old Cape Henry lighthouse was the first light built on the Chesapeake bay and marks the southern end of the entrance to the Bay.  The construction contract was signed in 1791 and the tower was built in 1792 for a cost of $15,000.  That had to be a huge sum back then but they built the thing not far from where the English first set foot in Virginia.

Old Cape Henry Lighthouse

In 1872 inspections of the old tower suggested repairs would be too extensive and the thing had become unstable.  Congress appropriated $75,000 and a new tower was constructed and the light lit in 1881 at a cost of $125,000.  You can see cost over runs didn't bother congress any more then than now.  That's their job....to spend our money. 

Even to this day you can still get into the light room of the old tower to see the new.

New Cape Henry Lighthouse.

Interestingly  there has not been a great deal of change with either tower over the years.

The view in 1905.

1907

1914

1935-1950

1935-1950

1996

THE 26th OF THE 7th

More randomness!
(Sure that's a word...spellcheck confirms it)

Somehow of late I am looking more towards minimalism in the work that I do.  I guess I think that some of the images have more feeling than message.  Or maybe that is the message.

They say that size matters!  Well that may be either a function of message or age?

Maybe it is the message.

Death in the marsh at a place called Bombay Hook!

Or maybe it's simply there because no one tended to it this day!

Perhaps it is a message that only two of us know about.  Now that's a neat and not so random thought!

The 25th of the 7th

Some random thoughts of random images viewed through a random mind!

I remember fishing when I was so young and more stupid that I had to use a bobber!

Conjuring an artistic, moon, abstract taken through midnight tree limbs.

Reflections in a blue globe ...... tampered with random insight!

The 24th of the 7th

A place from which to meditate!

I just posted this to my FAA site in the Delaware gallery, but then thought......the are a lot of different places to meditate and or contemplate.  Whichever your choice.

It doesn't have to be a church!

Maybe an object?

Perhaps a friend!

Or maybe just the fact that we made it to another sunrise!  Thank ya Lord!

TOMATOES FOR SALE

The Big Table at Ellen's-3-

Ellen's.  Early!

"Morning guys, I was out early photographing....how you all doing?"

My days were spent either out shooting, in Ellen's or at the camera shop trying to sell stuff to any victims that came along.  By far the best part of the day was spent behind the camera, next was Ellen's and lastly ... working.

"I was over in Queen Anne's County looking at the crops this morning.  I needed some rural images for a magazine request and got a bunch of images."

Pat.."And you call that working?"

"Hey each to his own.  The only work you did as a school principle was to paddle a few miscreants.  Remember those days Pat?  Got some respect from those kids too...didn't ya?"

"Bobby, I know you got some land in farming and all those humongous chicken houses.  How's the drought effecting you?"

"It's tough out there...the worse anyone around here's seen"

Skip .. "This is what the corn should look like right now with a little water on it"

"It's nation wide.  Sonny, you couldn't even hide in today's corn fields to catch a poacher"  Bobby said to the retired Natural Resources officer turned court jester.

Sonny .. "Probably just stay in the truck like always.  Easier to nap that way."

Skip .. "Yeah, well this is what I found this morning."

"And that makes the corn look like this instead of what it should.

You guys know I used to work in the Commodity field, brokered futures to the trade and speculators alike.  I haven't looked at prices in a lot of years, but can remember the hyper inflation of the 80's and 90's and it looks like we got that coming again.  I googled the charts this morning.  Now I know you guys think that google is a sound your grand kids make, but I have evolved....unlike you guys.  It's called the Internet and has a whole lot more "Real" information than this table.

The statistical liars in Washington keep telling us that inflation is under control.  But I don't know.  Corn is up from $5 a bushel to $8 since June.  Same way with wheat and soybeans, but up about 30% since then.  All that stuff is going to make everything else a lot more expensive. And just not chickens, cattle and hogs.  Man, just go and look in the supermarket.  Whew!  Those prices are outrageous!  We better go an butcher a whole bunch of those chickens your raising Bobby!"

"Sure, lets all go out this afternoon and get us some.  But, its gonna cost you fellas.  Life's good twenty five cents at a time."  Said the self made millionaire who did it all on his own.

The Big Table at Ellens-2

Small towns idolize their local heroes, probably inordinately so.

  But they do. 

 This is a statue of the baseball player Jimmy Fox.  Gave the locals something to talk about for weeks when it was unveiled. They all knew his statistics, where he played and a couple were even old enough to have claimed to have known him.  That may have fallen into the "Tall tale" category, but nobody could prove it.

Other fodder for conversation was of course, big local  events of any kind.  Such as this controlled burn of a local building.  Old wooden structure which would probably have been torched by some thug anyway.  But it did give several volunteer fire companies a chance to show off their rigs.

  Before I was invited to join the big table, I remember listening to Pat and someone else arguing the Civil War.  They know their stuff.  If one closed his eyes and simply listened, one could just "Feel" being there.  They knew every battle.  Every river that needed crossing and every player of any significance.  One of the fellows was the town drunk, reformed.  The other, Pat, was and is a collector of tow soldiers and other town and county memorabilia (aka pack rat).  It was just a fascinating conversation if I remember correctly.  They knew the politics and players of that war so well, or so it seemed.

  They always told the truth .... or as close as they could get to it.

Local happenings were always good topics for the table.  But other more pressing issues also came up to be digested and regurgitated.

One conversation with Bobby, a self made millionaire who runs the local laundromat, went something like this as I recall.

 "Bobby, are you so successful because the government in Washington helped you out?" 

"Nah....only help I ever got was a friend who bailed me out of jail in high school for fighting on the street"

"And a local farmer that loaned me $500 to get started.  The bank wouldn't, but he did.  I paid him off right quick too"

"Life is good twenty five cents at a time"

"Course those Goment boys is always right there ready to take half of what I do make"

"Now I understand the IRS is hiring 4,000 or maybe it's 16,000 new people just to make sure I stay healthy.  They tell me I got to buy health insurance or pay a fine.  For me and my employees.  And even after I pay the fine, I still don't have insurance.  Hell, I might just start drinkin again.  Guess they figure they need that many to figure out who ain't buyin and who needs fining.   They's callin it a tax now.  Maybe if they told the truth once in a while it might be easier on the businesses.   Thinking of sellin out and "retaring".  Just gettin to be too much"

The 16th of July

THE BIG TABLE AT ELLEN'S-1

Every town has one or more.  That dive where the local curmudgeons gather to solve the world's problems.

Towns where George Washington is still honored publicly with pride.

And patriots are seen on every street corner.

Most of the time, all they order is a cup of coffee and then leave the waitress only a quarter tip after spending up to an hour taking up space and heating the air around them.

I've even seen some sit from breakfast through lunch.

  Thus the Big table at Ellen's.

  Local guys adding color and entertainment for the rest of the folks who happened to stumble upon the dive.  One  table which seated anywhere from three to fifteen depending upon how we stacked em.

Loud and always right.  Regardless of the subject of the day or hour.  It took me a year of eating breakfast on the fringes before I was invited to join the group.

People called Pat, a retired school principle.  Bobby, a self made millionaire who ran laundries and car washes.  Life was good a quarter at a time.  I ran a camera store and film lab.  Sonny, a retired DNR officer turned court jester.  Jesse, a bank president and CEO.  Chief, the best mayor the town ever had.  Don who generally wanted to be in Canada hunting deer.   And an whole bunch of people who drifted in and out on a semi-regular basis. 

  Small towns like this one are the remaining backbone of the fabric of this country.  Maybe a population of 4,000 in a county four times that large, or small depending upon your view of things.

These are the places where the soul of this country resides.

The eleventh of the seventh

Well parts of the super hot weather seems to have dissipated somewhat around here.  Like everyone else I guess I can take the 100 plus temperatures as long as the humidity stays reasonable...you know below 3000%.  The last two nights we have had some much needed storms here in central South Carolina.  Much needed rain without any of the nasty stuff that accompanies summer thunder.  So all is well here on the south side of the sun.

 A few years back, I took on the job of photographing the lighthouses of Florida for two small books which were being published.  The Florida trip filled in one of the states that I had not previously shot, and I needed to complete the images for the two books.  So we hit the road in early in September.  Not an auspicious time to do so because that is part of the hurricane season down there.  Given my luck I figured that I would end up hunkered down in Key West for days while they sorted through the wreckage of a category twelve storm.

Key West lighthouse

I guess that years ago, Key West was the place that people went to get lost. Had I been younger at the time, I probably would have done that.  Just another dumb and irresponsible thing I would have done in my life and would have probably ended up in that island prison Fort Jefferson!

   It certainly is the end of the world as far as the East Coast is concerned.  But the homes and restaurants are great and there are chickens and cats roaming freely all over the place.  No hurricanes or great storms on the ten day trip.  Exhaustion was a critical part of that excursion.  Driving from Maryland to Key West and then back the west coast of Florida to Pensacola and then on to Jacksonville and north to Maryland all in ten days is a chore.  All in ten days!!  Some 30 something lighthouses.

Two of my favorite lighthouses in Florida are probably the result of the weather.  Glorious days with afternoon thunderheads make for just wonderful photo ops.  So no big storms but some really great sky to go with the history of classic lighthouses in outstanding scenic locations.

Both structures are on Gasparilla Island on the west coast between Fort Meyers and Port Charlotte. 

Boca Grande Lighthouse is a simple skeletal tower, but right on the Gulf of Mexico and only seventy yards or so from the beach.  Fairly isolated and in a wonderful setting.

Port Boca Grande Lighthouse is on the point and includes the keeper's house as well as the lighthouse.  Both very well maintained structures.  I even had a chance to fish a bit while we were there.  Boca Grande Pass is right there and teams with sport fish.  I didn't catch anything but had a couple of followers to my jigs that were big enough to tear me up.

The 9th of the 7th

Out of the genius of a 20 something college student.

Central Pennsylvania is a wonderment for a twenty year old college student.  First, there is all the obvious college things that students do....other than studying of course.  Fraternity, Sorority, the library, "The Hub", ice cream at the dairy store and party..party..party.  Probably too little of the study part and too much of the party part in some cases.

Second, I had another "Diversion" that most of my undergraduate and graduate buddies did not have.  I hunted and fished.  At that time without the camera.  I harvested my first ruffled grouse and my first white tail deer in those mountains.  Never saw a bear, but knew they were around.  I prided myself in being such a stealth hunter that the ultimate challenge to my skills would be a wild turkey. The time of this story is that period between when the pilgrims had their first Thanksgiving bird and the present day when turkeys roam most suburban backyards at will.  There was a time when Central Pennsylvania had almost the only concentration of these majestic birds on the East Coast.  Sometime in the sixties or early seventies.  Since then the population has exploded and they seem to be everywhere.  But back then it was pretty much a rarity even to see a bird.  Thus a challenge surpassed only by finding the noted Central Pennsylvania Mastodon.  And the reputation of being a successful turkey hunter was surpassed only by graduating college in two years instead of four.

You might think, oh well another bird.  A snap to find...what can be so hard?  Well, these birds have better eyesight than a modern day drone at 40,000 feet over the Afghan mountains.  Their hearing is better than that.  They can outrun a race horse (or it seems like it) and fly surprisingly well for such a large bird (up to forty pounds).  They travel in flocks and will call to each other all day long when dispersed.  They roost in trees and spend the daylight hours looking for food or (if the time of year is right) mates.

I bought a call box....two pieces of wood that you scrape together.  Glued some fall leaves to a hooded sweatshirt (this was before camo underwear).  Loaded up the old 12 bore and headed for the woods one Saturday morning.  Well before dawn.  The woods is black at that time of day and if you want to run the risk of breaking an ankle, just try and find your way around a dark mountainside without making too much noise.  It was an area of hardwoods and I felt because it was adjacent to a bit of a pine trees that the birds would come down from their roost to muck around the leaves looking for acorns.  I did do some homework here.  Probably more than on some of my dry old economics courses.

I finally found my favorite deep woods blind, or as they say in Europe "Hide".  Basically, an old oak tree wider at the base than myself.  Scraped the leaf litter away from the base, dry leaves make noise you know.  Sat down and waited for real daylight.  Now, if you want a real education....go deep into a woods where you cannot hear airplanes go over, or 18-wheelers on an interstate and just listen.

In the very early light, that charging through the leaves is probably not a three hundred pound bear being chased by thirty or forty wild dogs.  No, something a little different.  Probably only a wood thrush looking for grubs in the leaf litter.  Or maybe a **(&(*^) squirrel doing the same thing.  The thumping sound accompanied by what sounds like a consumptive smokers cough is simply a whitetail doe who caught your sent.

In my case the first rushing of leaves and fleeting shadow was a bob tail cat running along a deaf fall.  First and last one I have ever seen in the wild.  It was just amazing to see and to assimilate all the early morning sounds of nature. 

I finally hear what I thought was a turkey calling somewhere along the ridge above me.  Heck, for all I knew it could have been a cock a too (Sp).  I had no idea what a turkey sounded like, nor how to make the box I bought sound turkeyish.  But I did know you could call too much, so about every ten minutes I rubbed the box and it squawked and I waited.

To my utter amazement a young bird (no beard growing out of it's chest) called a "Jake" materialized from where, to this day I know not, about 30 yards below me.  Long story short.  I shot...I missed....he ran.  End of story. 

The next time I hunted these birds, I went to the same spot.  Immediately I got an answer to my calling.  I must have stumbled into doing something right.  Hoping that the bird would come to my calls, I called for a good hour and half.  Finally I decided since the bird wouldn't come to me...I'd take it to him.  I was the king of stealth remember.  I moved to within about fifty yards of the calling bird.  Only to find that he had on an orange blaze vest and hunting cap.  Another hunter.  We had been calling to each other for over an hour, neither moving.  Jeeeeez!  I just eased on back out and decided that studying bio-chemistry would be a better utilization of my time.  As it turned out, that was a mistake too.

The sixth of the seventh

AND THEN IT ALL BEGAN

In 1991, I was a fledgling pro photographer (or thought I was) when a friend asked me to go and photograph the lighthouses on the Chesapeake Bay.  She asked, not because I was any kind of fantastic photographer but rather, because she needed someone else to pay for the boat to take us around.  Simple economics.  At first I declined, knowing what the cost was going to be even before we found a captain to put up with us.  To make a long story shorter, we found a guy with a tow boat that went about fifty miles per hour and left the next day from the port of Rock Hall, MD.

Thus began my so far 21 year odyssey with lighthouses.

Sandy Point and Sandy Point light house is about ten miles south and on the opposite shore as where we began.  It lies just north of the western side of the twin spans of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge at Annapolis.

This is the first of the 250 some odd lighthouses I have visited and photographed on the East Coast.

It looked much better back then and now is pretty run down.  At least it looks so from the bridge.  The Coast Guard no longer maintains these things and they have for the most part simply aged.  It takes a lot of money and elbow grease to keep these things up.  This one is a caisson type light.  So named for the circular base which was placed in the bottom of the bay and then filled with all sorts of rubble to form a solid platform upon which to build the house itself.

We ended up photographing twenty five lighthouse over the course of three days and subsequently produced five state posters which have been selling since those early days.  They are now historical documents in their own right.

The above is the second edition of the first Maryland poster which is now out of print.

If you have an interest in purchasing, just email me at skipw@sc.rr.com

I wrote the following shortly after making the picture.

Like the Thomas Point Shoal Lighthouse, the Original Sandy Point Light was on shore on the western side of the bay just north of what is now the Chesapeake Bay Bridge.  The original light, completed in 1858, was both lighthouse and keeper’s house....with the lantern placed on the roof of the house.  A fog bell was added in 1863, but in 1874 the Lighthouse Board noted that the bell and light were ineffective as the shoal extended so far out into the bay as to render them virtually useless.  For approximately eight years the Board asked congress to appropriate anywhere from $20,000 to $40,000 to build a new light on the edge of the shoal in the bay proper. 

Finally, in 1882 congress appropriated $25,000 and construction was started on the caisson.  The lighthouse is built on a Caisson, or cylinder, some 35 feet in diameter and sunk three feet into the sandy bottom of the bay.  The red brick keeper’s house and lantern was built upon the caisson.  The light was electrified in 1929 and automatic operation began in 1963.  A one second white flash is exhibited every six seconds and the foghorn tolls every thirty seconds.

This light is located offshore just north of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge which connects Kent Island, MD and the Annapolis area. It can be viewed from the bridge itself or from Sandy Point State Park on the western shore of the bay. The bright red paint really makes this landmark stand out on a clear, sunny day.

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY, 2012

Happy Fourth Everyone....play safe!

Independence Day, commonly known as the Fourth of July, is a federal holiday in the United States commemorating the adoption of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776, declaring independence from the Kingdom of Great Britain.

Ya mean, it's not all about hamburgers, hot dogs and beer?  Who knew?  And no, it's not just another excuse to make a long weekend out of a mid week holiday.  And those fireworks your neighbor puts off in an attempt to burn down your house....it's not about that either.

No, it's about something that started this 200 plus year experiment in freedom.  It's been a tough long road to get to this point.  Wars, famine, recession, depression, unequalled prosperity all went into creating the greatest and most giving country on the planet.  Don't let them change all that.

Have your cookouts.  Enjoy your family.  Pray for your country.  Celebrate your freedom.  And have a great day off.

 

Now get back to work!

The 3rd of the 7th

Cook out!

The sun has just peaked up over the corn and soybean fields of the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake as I quietly slip along the dock.  Waiting at the end is a sleek 30 foot Aquasport, center console, with an inboard/outboard engine (an IO).   Even though it is early July there is a slight film of dew on everything and the air smells of cleanliness and salt.

My mission is simple.  Catch a few stripped bass for a cookout on the fourth.  Normally, a day for hamburgers and hot dogs....ours will be stripper, perch, crab, clams and shrimp done up on the grill.  Side all that with fresh sweet corn, tomatoes, and watermelon and you gotta wonder how the other half lives.  Sprinkle in family and a few friends and it doesn't get any better than that.

I ease away from the dock toward the dark western shore and past the anchored hoard of sailboats spending the night in protected waters.  The bay is a sheet of Mylar that promises temperatures close to the century mark later in the day.  Swan Creek has no traffic other than a waterman or two headed out to tend crab pots.  I'll stop one later to purchase a bushel of the Chesapeake Bay's blue gold.  But for now my nine foot fly rod is fully loaded and I looking for the gulls that accompany fish feeding on the surface.

I am on cruise control as I leave Swan Point in a direct line south to the mouth of the Chester and Love Point.  Off to the southwest lies the bay bridge.  At any moment, I could see the tell tale swirl of large fish chasing small fish.  The sign that the catch will be on.  I am not looking for the large fish they catch off Montauk or Cape Cod Bay.  But a few four and five pounders that are the best eating outside a fine Charleston restaurant.

My first cast is just off shore of Hickory Thicket.  The fish are driving alewives towards the flats at Eastern Neck Island and an occasional bucket sized swirl is my casting target.  The first fish is on just as a crimson line sneaks over the black shore line and I am fast to a charging, diving, delicacy of the deep.  The only sounds are the sea gulls alerting each other to the meal at hand and the wine of my fly line screaming off the real.

Quickly there are four fish in the keeper.  My fly needs repair and I now have to opportunity to cruise back to the dock at a slower pace.  Taking in all the scenes with which I grew up.  Pound nets with blue herons, egrets, and cormorants looking for a free meal.  Osprey screaming to mates on some distant nest.  Eagles patrolling for a fish too close to the surface.  Pods of bait fish circling in the shallows.  Crabs skittering across the glassy surface with a mate in tow.  A waterman working his crab pots in eight feet of water.  The sail boaters are still asleep and the sound of lines slapping mast as the boat rocks is everywhere.  At this place, at this time, all is right with the world.

You need to click on the links in the text to see the purdy pichurs.

The second of the seventh

We have had none of the weather damage that was experienced in the Mid-Atlantic, but we did have a bunch of storms yesterday and last night.

It all started late in the afternoon with the temperatures in the 105 range.  In about a half hour, the temps dropped about thirty degrees.  A lot of lightning but not much wind.  About a dozen hail stones the size of a kidney stone.......well, no that would be a serious "Ouch".  But we had a few.  Temps to get to 100 again today and more late afternoon storms called for.  Not quite as warm now, but we'll see.

The first of the seventh

Well, we made it through the first six months.  Give yourselves a hand.  The fire at the plastics recycling plant is still burning and the town has restricted water use so we won't poison ourselves with the run-off from fighting the fire.  I can only imagine those poor folks out west losing thier homes. 

Water restriction is ok cause my tomatoes would probably have tasted like petroleum based vegetables if I kept watering them.  You know how the tomatoes taste from the supermarket in January.  Going to be over 105 again today, so everything from grass up is going crispy critter.  But we made it through six months already.  Hooray!

This is what happens when you take a camera from an air conditioned house set at about 74 out into the arms of mother nature where it is pushing ninety with 3000 % humidity.  The lens immediately fogs over.

And an already stunted sunflower looks all the more like last year's dandelion.  Well, the next six months look bright.  We can replant a winter crop.  The Govt. has pushed health care down our throats and the Supreme's have pounded it up the other end, so there not too much more they can do to us on that front.  Mainstream TV will be wall to wall political lies till November, so we can scratch that as an entertainment source.  If you intend to take your wife/girlfriend to a movie--like maybe "Magic Mike", I would suggest that she go with her girl friends and leave you at home.  You would be only one of about five men in a full theatre.  Google it and you'll see why!  Me I want to see "Shades of Grey", the movie, if anybody has the balls to make it.............and you know they will.  You can google that too.  This is a family blog ya know!

In the mean time, we have a few hurricanes to look forward to, the first frost, the beginning of the school year and a few meaningful holidays.

 We'll start with the fourth.

  I will miss the pile of steamed crabs at the Rock Hall Celebration and the fireworks over the River in Chestertown.  My favorite lady of the rubber hand.  My kids oooooohing and ahhhhhhhing over the displays.

But we, in a neighborhood of 1/12 acre lots, will have fireworks.  They sell them down here to anyone. And that means that anyone who never made it past the eighth grade has the totally legal opportunity to set his neighbor's house afire.  Should be fun standing out in the back yard,  hose in hand, and watching all the yahoos drink, and crash, and burn.  Happens every year and is a really sweet way to pay tribute to the country.  Just hope the water restrictions have been lifted by then.

Anyway, welcome July.  The month of hamburgers and hotdogs on the gril, micro bikinis at the beach, brown grass that should've been green, car interiors of two hundred degrees, electric bills large enough to finance a year at a college, and just more lies in the national news.

Oh, and I see spell check is out again.  So suffer!