Steel Kaleidoscopes

Cow Country

Driving on Route 37 from Ogdensburg to Watertown in upstate New York is like going back in time.

Each home seems to have acres of property with the obligatory barn and silo. The pastures go on for miles, with scattered herds of cows grazing in the sun.

For as many homes that look inhabited, there are dilapidated structures that have either collapsed or are ready to collapse. Years of neglect, bad winters and perhaps the economy have rendered these homes and sheds useless.

Living across from these abandoned buildings seems like bad feng shui. It's kind of sad to see quiet swingsets and seesaws, the kids either at school or grown up and on to other things.

At times it's like driving on the set of "Gunsmoke."

I glance in my rear-view mirror, wondering if Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker will pull up alongside me.

My GPS signal fades about the time I drive by two businesses, one selling steer and one selling guns.

I feel more at home as I reach Watertown. I like to see Dunkin' Donuts and vibrant storefronts. Visible activity is more comforting than an old dusty painting.

Jumping Puddles

I got a window seat.

It was a beautiful day for flying in a Cessna 410 from Boston to Albany, then from Albany to Ogdensburg, N.Y.

I sat in the seat behind the pilot and could smell her perfume. That's how tight you're packed in. In fact, I had to be careful not to kick her seat.

A nap was out of the question with no head rest.

I tried to put out of my mind that there was no co-pilot.

So we bumped along, took in the scenery and arrived safely at our destination.

But not without a few white knuckles.

The New Traveler

It's funny to watch how the little person who lives in our house handles air travel.

In her window seat, she's got the JetBlue TV tuned in to her chosen channel. Beneath the TV is her portable DVD player. And in her lap is a pink Nintendo DS.

And if that's not enough to keep her busy on on the three-hour flight, her iPod Touch is well within reach.

Now that's multitasking.

Stones in Motion

It's a quiet conversation on the banks of Woods Hole, Mass.

How's Your Day Going?

 
One of the unique art exhibits we recently checked out was "Gravity Is a Force to Be Reckoned With," which features an upside-down office (above) by the artist Iñigo Manglano-Ovalle.

The exhibit is currently housed at the Massachusetts  Museum of Contemporary Art (MASS MoCA).

The upside-down desk even features a cup of coffee, which is spilling.

There's a metaphor in here somewhere.

Saratoga, 2011

The sweltering late-summer sun bakes the lawn.

It hardly feels like Labor Day weekend, but we embrace it.

Races come and go. The horses whir by, galloping over turf and dirt, clamoring for win, place and show.

In the evening, we dine al fresco at Wheatfield's, nibbling on mussels and sipping Napa Sauvignon Blanc.

We stroll by the pond in the park, watching the ducks, even helping a careless girl retrieve her flip-flop from the water.

We watch and listen to live music on Caroline Street.

We bask in the final glow of summer, in one of our favorite places.

Saratoga, 2011.

Cupsogue Beach

The gulls are larger here and clearly well-fed in this West Hampton playground for birds and other living things.

The crazy heat wave has come and gone. It's hot, but the late July sun is tempered, blending with the seaweed-scented ocean breeze.

The waves roll and crash like a tympanic orchestra, a hollow sound-chaser gust that provides the soundtrack to the beach.

We eat apples with peanut butter and chocolate-chip cookies, sipping cool water as the gulls circle, hoping for an unattended scrap or two.

It's a perfect beach day, embracing life within the sands of time, a postcard from Long Island.

Historical Perspective

 
My friend Tim was recently in Rome and took this picture of the famed Forum.

Hawaiian Coast

That's perspective.

(Photo courtesy of Richard in Carlisle, Mass.)

Traveling for Work

The makeshift, outdoor pub community of London.

The hot-baked heat and strained Southern hospitality of Atlanta.

The expanse of Dallas.

The plastic fantastic feel of LA.

The quizzical, hokey, bizarro-world of Indianapolis.

The dry heat of Phoenix and the table misters in Tempe.

The tall icy buildings of Chicago.

The fresh, dew-drip air of San Francisco with the drop-dead views from Mill Valley.

The multimedia complexity of New York.

The spinning, dizzying, zydeco nights on Bourbon Street.

The vacation mindset of Tampa.

The rain, fog and dark-roast feeling of Seattle.

The nothingness of Detroit.

The large-scale political pinnacle of D.C.

The bright lights and smell of money in Vegas.