lloydslensphotographyllc

Soar

Tonight’s Feature Image is titled “Over The Edge”. If you would like to purchase a copy please use the contact instructions at the bottom of the page.

When I was a kid in the 1970s hang gliding was a pretty popular activity for anyone who had a mountain to launch from. I would stand on the edge of a cliff with my jacket held open so that I could feel the pull of the breeze. The sensation would always give me butterflies in my stomach. At some point I began to wonder if those butterflies came from breeze or the fact that was close to the edge. Not that I was ever really all that close. But I thought that I was. I would envision myself strapped to what was basically a giant kite gracefully floating on the wind as I soared down to the river. I would scour the library for books on flying and learned that as the warmer air radiated up from the canyon that it could take me higher and that it was possible to go even farther it you could surf the wind. There was even an unfulfilled plan to scavenge lumber and the black plastic sheets used in gardens to build a glider. Those plans were foiled when I couldn’t find enough straight nails to complete the build. I was about eight years old and the hardware store was too far away for my bicycle to get me there and back before my parents got home and so the glider remained as sketch on my school homework paper.

Today I still stand on the edge of the canyon and imagine that I’m soaring through the New River Gorge with the wind in my face. We have better options than a giant kite too. Power parachutes and GPS navigation via a pocket sized computer with hundreds (if not thousands) of times the computing power that NASA used to go to moon. And, the invention of the wingsuit proved that maybe an eight year old boy standing on the edge of a cliff with his jacket open wasn’t so far off base after all.

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A Conversation Between Friends

Color Photography

Tonight’s Feature Image is titled ” Friendship & Sunshine”. If you would like to purchase a copy please use the contact info at the bottom of page.

There’s something special about having a day with nothing to do but sit by the river with a friend. I look at the ducks in tonight’s feature image and I have to imagine that they’ve been best friends since the day they met. As they stood there on their rock looking out over the Kanawha River they seemed to quack to each other in a hushed tone and this could only mean that were gossiping. Which makes me wonder what ducks would gossip about?Perhaps they are having a conversation about Gertrude. “Gertrude thinks she’s in charge of everything but she’s just a silly old goose.” Or maybe they are talking about what an old crow Joe is. Of course it might not be gossip at all. They could be quizzing each other on the lecture given by the wise old owl last night. So that when he asks who they’ll be the first with the right answer. Perhaps they are discussing the sermon that the cardinal gave last week or the upcoming drake concert. I can almost hear one say to the other that “The hummingbirds are going to open for him!”. They could be commenting on how tall young Mr Crane is or Mrs Dove is so pleasant. It’s also entirely possible that one of them is saying that “There’s some guy sneaking up behind us with a camera.” Of course it doesn’t matter what the conversation is about. All that’s really important to them is spending time with a best friend.

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Blood,Sweat And Steel

black and white photography, Uncategorized

Hello Friends! Tonight’s image is titled “Curves In Repetition” and if you want to purchase a copy please see the instructions at the bottom of the page.

When I think about workers laying down the tracks the image in my mind is of burly men with sledgehammers driving the steel. I can hear the hammer ring and feel the sweat of hard labor in the afternoon sun. The air is humid and thick with the smell of the creosote on the heavy wooden crossties. A civil engineer maintains a careful eye on the transit. Being off by a few inches now would mean missing the mark later. The crew works as single unit. Each takes his turn with the hammer in sequence with perfect timing. Somewhere along the way another team welds the sections together into a perfectly seamless pair of ribbons. Everything they do comes at price of aching muscles and stiff backs. The result is a web of steel, wood and concrete that stretches through mountains and valleys and across rivers in a way that adds romantic beauty to the landscape. They are artists and their medium is blood, sweat and steel.

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The First Date Lasts Forever

Color Photography

Tonight’s Feature Image is titled “Thinking Of Her” and is available for purchase by using Contact information at the bottom of the page.

The old man walked out of his house and shuffled off into his garden. With trembling hands he began to sort through the prickly shoots and branches if the rose bush he planted sixty years ago. As he worked he subconsciously began to hum that familiar song that was on his car radio all those years ago when he picked her up for their first date. He could still see her long hair pulled back into a ponytail and smell the perfume that she wore on that night. As he explored the bush for just the right bloom he found himself dancing to the tune of the their first slow dance while his little dog cocked his head trying to understand what was going on. One by one he snipped and gently placed the cuttings in his basket and carried them to his shed. The best roses were destined to be placed in the turned and hand rubbed wooden vase that he completed a few weeks before. He recounted their first date to the dog as he worked. He described her smile and way she giggled when made that joke. The little dog laid on the rug and kept his eyes fixed on his master as if transfixed by the story. The old man continued to work diligently clearing space in the shed and making last minute adjustments to the small room. Finally he took the remaining rose pedals and scattered them on the freshly cleaned floor. “Okay boy. Bring her.” He commanded to his dog. The little wasted no time running into the house and tugging at the him of her pants excitedly like he always did when he wanted her to follow. Her eyes widened and she smiled that same smile that she did the first time he pulled up into her father’s driveway for the high school Valentine’s Day dance all those years ago. He reached over and pushed play on his phone and started their song as he asked her to dance. She leaned into his chest and held her close as they gently swayed into the night.

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The Girl Next Door

Color Photography, Uncategorized

Hello Friends! Tonight’s image is titled “Surprise Visitor” for the bumblebee hiding under the flower and really has little to do with the story. However, if you want to purchase a copy please see the instructions at the bottom of the page.

He sat down somewhere between his yesterdays and his tomorrows. Something has changed and he was trying to figure it out. Before today she was just the bratty girl next door. The one who made mud pies and climbed trees. The girl who just last summer beat him in a wrestling match and made him say uncle before she would let him up. But today when she walked by in the school cafeteria she didn’t smell like mud pies and she didn’t move like a wrestler. She smelled like strawberries and seemed to float as she stepped. Things would be different from now on. A few days later he swallowed the lump in his throat and asked her to the dance. The first dance was awkward but eventually they moved as one. Sometime later that night she gave him his first kiss beneath the tree that they used to play in. It was just a little peck on the cheek but it made him feel like superman. That night he took his pocket knife and carved their initials into the tree. The heart shape wasn’t perfect but it was there. As time passed she would wear his spare jersey as she cheered for him at the high school football games. She maintained the yellow ribbon around their tree the whole time he was in the army and every day she touched their initials inside the misshapen heart and paid attention to the “4 ever” just inside the V of the heart. “A promise is a promise she whispers. One day when she came home from work and went out to check the yellow ribbon she found an engagement ring threaded through it. She heard his voice voice from the back door say “A promise is a promise “. After that day they were never separated again. By the next Spring they were married beneath that same oak and raised a family.

The little girl sat at the picnic table beneath the large lower branches looking at the odd somewhat heart shaped scar on the trunk. Her grandmother came out and sat next her. Looking up with her big blue eyes she asked about the Valentine carved into tree as her brother bounded from a branch. The grandmother smiled and said “Why don’t I tell you while we make a mud pie for your grandfather”.

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All images are my original work and are available as prints. You can request a print by using the Contact Form on my website at https://lloydslensphotographyllc.com/contact/or via Facebook Message at https://www.facebook.com/aviewfromthelens/