Snapshot
As I sat on the sailboat’s deck, my eyes fixed on the horizon where the ocean’s deep blue met the sky. My husband, the captain, was at the helm, guiding the boat with a steady hand while our young son cuddled in my arms inside my jacket, accompanied by the sounds of the wind and waves. The Florida Keyes were never so beautiful. As we sailed, my attention was caught by a red rope dangling from a nearby halyard. It swayed gently in the breeze, its vibrant color striking against the backdrop of the deep blue sky. The sun caught a portion of the rope, lighting it up like a beacon, a moment of brilliance suspended in time. I quickly snapped a photo, capturing the scene just as it was—simple yet profoundly beautiful.
Convergence at St. George Island
As I stood beneath the towering structure of the St. George Island bridge, the view from the Apalachicola side was nothing short of mesmerizing. The bridge soared high above me, its massive undercarriage creating a geometric marvel that twisted and faded into the distance. The street lights lined up like sentinels, gradually disappearing into the horizon.
The Custard Castle: A Tale of Time and Memories
The golden hour cast a warm, amber glow over the Custard Castle, its neon signs flickering to life as dusk approached. The Ice Cream Cone, Italian Ice, Soft Pretzels, and the inviting “Open” sign shimmered with a nostalgic allure, beckoning travelers on the Black Horse Pike to stop and savor a moment of sweet simplicity. Nestled twenty miles from the bustling Atlantic City and the Jersey Shore, the Custard Castle had stood proudly since 1972, a steadfast beacon of delightful treats and cherished memories.
Captured Dreams: A Hasselblad Love Story
In the summer of ’85, when my photography business was finding its footing, fate intervened in the form of a chance encounter at KEH Camera Brokers. Back in those days, if you lived in the Atlanta area, you could walk into KEH and go through their bins. My heart yearned for a Hasselblad, a symbol of professionalism and artistic excellence, but my wallet whispered tales of financial strain. A commotion at the counter caught my attention as I stood amidst the array of lenses and bodies. A man, his frustration palpable, lamented the meager offer the buyer proposed for his beloved Hasselblad kit. With lenses spread before him like treasures on display, he turned to me, a stranger, and posed an unexpected proposition.