Expectations

We were headed out to explore more of San Angelo, Texas, and Ginger asked if I wanted to see the water lily garden. “Sure,” I replied - I love to photograph gardens.” But water lilies in Texas? “I’ll just bring my toy camera and not drag the Nikon D2x around with me for this trip,” I thought to myself. I mean, what could I possibly find to photograph there?

Expectations... How many times do we think about a place, or a location or a subject, and pre-judge what we think it might be worth in terms of photographs. What time of day are we going there? High noon? What is the chance that time of day would result in great images?

I remember meeting the photographer Paul Caponigro at the Maine Photographic Workshops one year, and I asked him when he thought the best time was to photograph the low flat rocks down at the harbor’s edge. I will never forget his answer. Just go down and see what you can find, at any time. It would be strange to think that the rocks will suddenly reveal themselves to us, just because we arrived on the scene! Go and photograph - the longer you are out there photographing, the more chance you will have to find great photographs. More time in the field equals better photographs. It is now my mantra.

So we arrived at the International Water Lily Garden to fine huge tanks full of all kinds of water lilies, and some of them were just unimaginable, as these were. Someone has since said that these are most likely an African variety. Stunning photographs everywhere. This may be the single best image from a week of shooting! And what camera did I bring? My toy camera! What was I thinking! Fortunately, the little Canon S-70 produces a 20 MB file, and I can make beautiful prints from this small point-and-shoot, so all was not lost.

Me and My Shadow

It was a gorgeous afternoon for a bike ride with the late afternoon sun in a clear blue sky

Oh, one other thing - the temperature was 25 degrees and the wind was blowing at 15 miles per hour! That's OK, Lance would ride with weather like this, so certainly I could. Besides, my face only hurts when I am going downhill at 30 miles per hour and the wind is blowing straight at me. The rest of the time, because I am well bundled up for my ride, my 10 mile trip is always a joy. I begin by grinding up Laurel Avenue, then reach the flats up above and really start cranking. It doesn't take long to get into the rhythm. The cares of the day fall away, and the feeling of speed is wonderful. I am careful because of the low temperature and I am constantly on the lookout for patches of ice, and left-over sand that was spread on the road when we had a dusting of snow last week.

I am vaguely aware of my shadow off to one side or the other from time to time as I change direction with the turns of the road. But it is on my next to last hill climb that suddenly my shadow races out ahead of me as the sun sets behind me. I lean on the pedals but it is no use - my shadow is ahead of me to stay. So I just enjoy the company on the climb.


I will reach the top of the hill, turn around and race down again to the bottom and then it's just a mile back to home. This time, however, I am more aware of my shadow, and decide to do a U-turn and ride back along the harbor's edge in the direction I came from, so that I can photograph my shadow riding alongside me on the surface of the road. I am just a tiny figure on huge wheels, but I am grinning from ear to ear.

The Last Picture Show

"If you see anything you want to stop and photograph, just holler," said my friend Ginger as she and Ron were driving me around their hometown of San Angelo, Texas. I thought they might live to regret their offer. I was on my way to a conference at McDonald Observatory in Fort Davis, Texas, and had stopped to visit with Ginger and Ron for several days while en route to Fort Davis. San Angelo is a medium-sized town in west Texas, and at first glance, my eyes told me there would be photographs everywhere. We began our day in a coffee shop in an old hotel, with several ranchers in Stetsons and jeans at the next table. I always enjoy listening to conversations for the differences in accent and speech. The grouping of three ranchers was not quite enough of a photograph for me to disturb their breakfast, so I let the moment pass, but it was enough to drink in the scene and listen to the conversation.

After breakfast there were some bent wood chairs in front of watercolors on the wall of the coffee shop...


The interior of the old Cactus hotel, which was the fourth hotel in the Hilton chain...



And Eggemeyer's General store...


With beautiful, huge, scale-model aircraft hanging from the ceiling. I think the wingspan of this is a DC-3 is about six feet...


A primitive painting on the side of a downtown building...



The bail bondsman's Cadillac with horns fastened to the hood...


The pickup in the parking lot of a building painted like the Texas flag...


The brilliant, corrugated-steel Palmer Feed Mill reflecting sunlight against the clear blue Texas sky...


And the International Water Lilly Garden with these are African water lillies...

The old Texas theater which is being restored...

A view of several buildings on Concho avenue, downtown...

A Citgo station and sign against a sky so blue, the scene reminded me of a William Wegman photograph...

And an old Texas Air National Guard T-33 displayed at the local high school.


I was burning up more space on my CF cards than I would have in several days shooting at work! Hey, this is what vacations are for, right? I find that I am absolutely energized by the thought of a new landscape to discover, and San Angelo was no exception. We continued driving around town and the outlying areas that first day, and I would guess that I had them stopping anywere between 1 or 2 blocks, or 4 or 5 miles! They were very gracious, given that they had this madman with a camera in their car. It was late in the day when we headed back into town, just before sunset. We were driving along Chadbourne Street and there it was! An extra wide street, nearly deserted, with some Texas style buildings with the overhanging roofs lit by the setting sun. "STOP!" I hollered, but I needn't have, because they had already noticed the scene and by now knew that it would be my type of photograph. Fortunately, this was not like Ansel Adams' experience with "Moonrise, Hernandez" where the sunlight went off the crosses after he shot the first piece of film. In my case the sun remained above the horizon for perhaps 10 or 15 minutes and I could spend plenty of time trying different compositions. This one is my favorite. I call it "The Last Picture Show," which it's not, but it reminds me of the theatre in the movie of the same name. These buildings are not deserted, they are actually in use as an office and a cabinetmaker's shop. Quite an end to my first day in Texas.

Ken Spencer