I was eating my lunch at the public gardens yesterday as I often do, when a fellow with a large, impressive-looking camera came down my flower-lined alley and pointed his zoom lens at a cluster of poppies to my right. He looked like a professional with all of his expensive paraphernalia, so I asked him if he needed me to move. He said “no,” then sat down on my bench and showed me some of his work. His shots were beautiful.
Although he was capturing spring foliage on this particular day, most of his work is of “nearly gone” structures. He finds these gems of yesteryear in fields and along roadsides in North Carolina.
A faded red barn dappled in the sunlight.
A battered outhouse making its last weary stand amid an endless mass of yellow wildflowers.
I was inspired by his creative eye and his hunger for the perfect photograph—he’s fallen through rafters and dangled from beams to achieve it. Wow.
After we bid one another adieu, I took a turn around the gardens, gathering a few shots of my own. I stayed soundly on two feet, but I did twist and crouch from time to time in order to get a better angle.