The Life in My Years

An anthology of life

This week’s Lens Artists Photo Challenge presented to us by Amy is #79: A Window With A View. Cover photo: Chinatown, San Francisco California. The window of a Chinatown market shows us a view of edible delights and Muni bus in the reflection. Chapel of the Transfiguration – Grand Teton National Park In a small patch …

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I’m ending the year with my very first photo challenge entry, Patti’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge #77, Favorite Photos of 2019. There’s not much rhyme or reason to my selections. As I scroll through a year of photos I’m not looking for anything in particular; just that brief recognition that something in the image strikes me. …

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I was feeding the parking meter at the corner of Spear and Howard Streets in San Francisco’s south of Market area when Cora pointed up at one of the many high rise buildings going up in the area. “Look at that building.” Following her finger I gazed up at a strange twisted tower. It looked …

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It’s the thirtieth day of November. We’re on the back side of autumn and moving headlong into winter. I could just as easily have phrased it as being on the home stretch but that assumes something pleasant at the end, a finish line, a goal. Autumn doesn’t captivate me like it does others. I find …

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Part of our first day in Montreal was spent strolling up and down the aisles of Marche Jean Talon, a public market located in the city’s Little Italy district. Window shopping; I can take it or leave it. That is unless we’re at a farmer’s market. Then I’m all in, as I was when we …

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In April of 1869 a fire broke out at the 800 foot level of the Yellow Jacket Mine killing at least 35 miners

The American West had a mind to be heartless; a place, a time and a life that didn’t discriminate when it came to the taking of life.

In life they lived hard and in death they repose in the hard land.

Once you step through the gates of the cemetery you enter a different world. It’s a stark place populated with monuments colored in doleful shades of gray, many cracked, broken and in varying stages of disrepair.

In the midst of the gaiety of Quebec City’s Rue St. Jean sits a historic old cemetery in the shadow of an old Anglican Church.

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