I’ve lived and made photographs in two very different parts of America in my years on this planet, and each place, while appearing visually dissimilar from the other, felt comfortable and right at the time. Neither place better nor worse, mind you, just right.
I grew up in Ohio and that was “home” through my mid-20’s, when my wife, young son and I moved West, settling in the Pacific Northwest where we’ve lived now for 35 years. It could be that I’m just an adaptable fellow but I feel like I have two homes, two parts of the country a couple of thousand miles apart where I have friends, family, a photographic history, and roots.
Friday I headed for the Cascade Mountains for a hike with a friend. I began my day by watching the sun rise over Puget Sound, and, at the end of the day, my companion and I looked on, slackjawed, as the setting sun painted the clouds a fiery reddish-orange. My friend and I both agreed that we feel fortunate to live where we do.
But, come November, I’ll travel to my mother’s home in Ohio for a stay in the town and house where I grew up. I’ll do late Fall chores for Mom and I’ll enjoy my time there too.
In Ohio I’ll rake leaves into piles and those piles will be the colors of the sunrise and sunset skies I saw on my hiking trip Friday.
