Day 180 – I Couldn’t Feel my Fingertips

I Couldn't Feel my Fingertips

Day 180

Zummer An’ Winter by Ingeborg Bachmann

When I led by zummer streams
The pride o’ Lea, as naighbours thought her,
While the zun, wi’ evenen beams,
Did cast our sheades athirt the water;
Winds a-blowen,
Streams a-flowen,
Skies a-glowen,
Tokens ov my jay zoo fleeten,
Heightened it, that happy meeten.

Then, when maid an’ man took pleaces,
Gay in winter’s Chris’mas dances,
Showen in their merry feaces
Kindly smiles an’ glisnen glances;
Stars a-winken,
Day a-shrinken,
Sheades a-zinken,
Brought anew the happy meeten,
That did meake the night too fleeten.

Day 179 – What Treasures Lie Within

What Treasures Lie Within

Day 179

Woolworth’s by Mark Irwin

Everything stands wonderously multicolored
and at attention in the always Christmas air.
What scent lingers unrecognizably
between that of popcorn, grilled cheese sandwiches,

malted milkballs, and parakeets? Maybe you came here
in winter to buy your daughter a hamster
and were detained by the bin

of Multicolored Thongs, four pair
for a dollar. Maybe you came here to buy
some envelopes, the ight blue par avion ones

with airplanes, but caught yourself, lost,
daydreaming, saying it’s too late over the glassy
diorama of cakes and pies. Maybe you came here

to buy a lampshade, the fake crumpled
kind, and suddenly you remember
your grandmother, dead

twenty years, floating through the old
house like a curtain. Maybe you’re retired,
on Social Security, and came here for the Roast

Turkey Dinner or the Liver and Onions
or just to stare into a black circle
of coffee and to get warm. Or maybe

the big church down the street is closed
now during the day, and you’re homeless and poor,
or you’re rich, or it doesn’t matter what you are

with a little loose change jangling in your pocket,
begging to be spent, because you wandered in
and somewhere between the bin of animal crackers

and the little zoo in the back of the store
you lost something, and because you came here
not to forget, but to remember to live.

This, of course, is not a Woolworth’s and is actually an empty store with a lovely storefront.  The empty shop is in Shipshewana, a quaint little tourist trap in upper Indiana, right about where it is as flat as flat can be.  There is a large flea market in the summer, on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and people come from hundreds of miles away for it; it can take the full two days to get through it.  It has been years since I have wandered the aisles on a hot summer day.  The area is surrounded by Amish farms, a lot of horses and a lot of black buggies – the paved roads have deep ruts from the hard wheels.  And every other tourist who has a camera invariably sticks the darn thing right into an Amish person’s space and starts to snap away,  not really caring about religious beliefs or even common courtesy. The streets are crowded during the week, with horses drawn carriages, buggies, bicycles, people walking with arms full of purchases and cars dodging the lot of them.  It is rare to find an empty shop in Shipshe.

I only go to Shipshewana after it is dark outside and the streets have been rolled up for the night, or on quiet Sunday afternoons after getting home from church.  The shops are all closed with the exception of the gas station on the corner, the Amish are all either in bed or at church, depending upon whether it is Sunday or night, and the only people you see are a local “Englisher” or two out for a stroll or jog.

I wish Jo-Jo’s Pretzels were open at night….

Day 176 – Train Going Nowhere

Train Going Nowhere

Day 176

From a Railway Carriage by Robert Louis Stevenson

Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And here is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart runaway in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill, and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone forever!

Night 115

Night 115 – As I was out tonight taking my photo(s) of the night, it was humid, it was hot, it was not 15 degrees below 0.  I hear everyone complain about the heat and I am thankful for it. I can go outside without 3 layers of clothing, I can walk on a sidewalk without slipping around on patches of ice, I can get into my car and drive down any road and there isn’t an ounce of black ice, my face isn’t chapped from the cold, my heating bill is non-existent, I can jump into water and let the water sluice down my skin, cooling it, I can enjoy a nice fire outside and listen to the crickets and night birds, there is no frostbite in my summer.

Summer just does not last long enough.

Night 113

It is never day when I post my photo(s) of the day, so welcome to night 113.  I wasn’t very inspired to photograph anything today; I am still recovering from the trauma of yesterday and will be for a long time.  As uninspired as I was, I did a status update on Facebook and asked for some ideas.  Architecture and buildings are what were the most asked for so I headed to Shipshewana, IN with the idea of shooting one of the buildings there or the grain elevator.  The light was good and contrasty today and color was popping like mad.  Shipshe was crawling with tourists today though and they made it a fairly annoying photo jaunt today; either someone was walking over me, bumping me or trying to run me over all the while staring at me.  You would think many of these people had never seen a camera, or maybe it was the shock of seeing someone who wasn’t being offensive and trying to take a photo of an Amish person.

I did get one shot with the Davis Mercantile in it, though it is more of a backdrop than anything else.  I really hated the photos I took of the grain elevator, and of the Blue Gate, and was getting a bit desperate when I looked up and saw the street sign with the Mercantile behind it.  On my way back to my car, I stopped long enough to take two quick photos of a buggy and one of a wind chime at at shop entrance.

And now my headache has become too bothersome, so I will bid you adieu.