It’s not much of a picture, but it does illustrate a point. We had taken the dog to be groomed and when we went to pick him up I noticed wonderful light on the hills opposite the store. The trouble was that it was difficult to get a picture because the hills were on the other side of a parking lot with lots of lights that partially obstructed the view. So I thought that if I moved to a different position I might be able to find somewhere where the lights weren’t to obvious. I set out walking across the parking lot. Part of the way across I noticed that the light was disappearing and decided to take a picture before it went altogether. It was already to late – the wonderful light that I’d seen earlier had gone. A few seconds later the hills were almost completely dark. A short walk (probably only a minute or so) across a parking lot had been enough for the light to evaporate.
The Air Show brochure describes the GEICO Skytypers as follows:
The world famous GEICO Skytypers Air Show Team consists of six of eleven remaining vintage World War II SNJ-2‘s that demonstrate low level precision flying as well as deliver aerial messages, known as Skytyping – as tall as the Empire State Building, and eight miles wide. The letters can be seen for 15 miles.
I’m leaning on a lamp, maybe you think, I look a tramp,
Or you may think I’m hanging ’round to steal a motor-car.
But no I’m not a crook, And if you think, that’s what I look,
I’ll tell you why I’m here, And what my motives are.
I’m leaning on a lamp-post at the corner of the street,
In case a certain little lady comes by.
Oh me, oh my, I hope the little lady comes by.
I don’t know if she’ll get away, She doesn’t always get away,
But anyhow I know that she’ll try.
Oh me, oh my, I hope the little lady comes by,
There’s no other girl I would wait for, But this one I’d break any date
for,
I won’t have to ask what she’s late for, She wouldn’t have to leave me
flat,
She’s not a girl like that.
Oh, she’s absolutely wonderful, and marvellous and beautiful.
And anyone can understand why,
I’m leaning on a lamp-post at the corner of the street
In case a certain little lady passes by.
I’m leaning on a lamp-post at the corner of the street,
In case a certain little lady comes by.
Oh me, oh my, I hope the little lady goes do do do dah dah dee dee dee…..
I don’t know if she’ll get away, She doesn’t always get away,
But anyhow I know that she’ll try.
Oh me, oh my, I hope the little lady comes by,
There’s no other girl I would wait for, But this one I’d break any date
for,
I won’t have to ask what she’s late for, She wouldn’t have to leave me
flat,
She’s not a girl like that.
Oh, she’s absolutely wonderful, and marvellous and beautiful.
And anyone can understand why,
I’m leaning on a lamp-post at the corner of the street
In case a certain little lady passes by.
Of course I have absolutely no idea who this guy is, why he’s there or what he’s thinking. He’s not even leaning on the post, as much as he is leaning on a bicycle. But when I took this picture for some reason the above song recorded by George Formby in 1937 came to mind. Formby was a somewhat unlikely star – not particularly good looking, with a squeaky voice and a pronounced Lancashire accent. He accompanied himself on a ukulele/banjolele and was very popular with my parent’s generation, becoming at one point the UK’s highest paid entertainer. He died in 1961 aged 56. I was nine then and surely had some memories of him performing. The song was also performed by Herman’s Hermits and went on to reach number nine in the Billboard charts in 1966. Herman’s Hermits still exist and are, coincidentally, performing in a nearby theater: The Paramount Hudson Valley, Peekskill in 10 days time (October 25, 2015).
Below: Formby performing “I’m leaning on a lamp post at the corner of the street”.
The title says it all. Taken somewhere on the east side of Manhattan on October 18, 2012 with a Sony NEX 5N and legacy Canon 50mm f1.4 FD lens (with adapter).
On stones mossed with hot dust, no shade but the thin, useless shadows of roadside grasses;
into the wood’s gloom, staring back at the blue flowers on stalks thin as threads.
The green slime – a thicket of young trees standing in brown water;
with knobs like muscles, a naked tree stretches up,
dead; and a dead duck, head sunk in the water as if diving.
The tide is out. Only a pool is left on the creek’s stinking mud…..
