Ramshackle looking cafe/diners dotted the area. Places like Susie’s, family owned and looking sketchy on the outside and maybe a little greasy on the inside offered simple fare and good service
Ramshackle looking cafe/diners dotted the area. Places like Susie’s, family owned and looking sketchy on the outside and maybe a little greasy on the inside offered simple fare and good service
My San Francisco is a series of posts that describes my own personal relationship with The City. My San Francisco pieces might be photo essays; they might be life stories or they could be commentaries. They might be a combination of some or all three. My impressions won’t necessarily be paeans to San Francisco; it’s …
This week’s Lens Artists Photo Challenge is leading lines. Tina’s challenge is to display photos with lines “carry our eye through a photograph. They help to tell a story, to place emphasis, and to draw a connection between objects.” Cover photo: San Pablo Bay, California Converging lines. The lines of the shore and the clouds. …
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 …
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 …
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 …
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.
The Life in My Years 