Skip to main content

Just a spot~


Yesterday was an A+ glowing autumn day. Instead of crashing on the couch after school, I decided to take my camera for a walk. But I wanted someplace different, so I hopped in the truck and headed for the nature trails at the college. Instead I followed the sunlight, and drove from one photo-op to another.

A sign caught my eye--Stiles and Hart Brick Company-- and I did one of those break-slamming, squealing, last minute right turns.

In the early 1900's, Stiles and Hart mined clay and produced bricks. Brick production stopped in 1938 when a hurricane damaged the buildings, but clay was mined until after WWII. That site is now a park. This sign led me to the new location of the business.

The building was in beautiful spot on the Taunton River, perfect for picture taking, but it had signs: No trespassing. Stop at this point.

I entered the office, camera hanging from my shoulder, and asked a man behind a desk if he'd allow me to take pictures on the property.

"For who?" he asked.


"Just for me."

"Of what?" he wanted to know.

Just . . . nature, autumn, the river, the beauty." I gestured out the window.

"No." He shook his head. "This is a private business."

"Okay. That's fine," I said. "But why would it be a problem?"

He sited safety reasons. I nodded, and turned to go.

"Wait," he said. "Since you're so passionate about it, I know a great spot to take pictures. You'll love it. I take my kids there."

He was transformed from stuffy businessman-- fourth-generation, he told me-- to director of photography.

He pulled out a Sharpie, and proceeded to draw a map. I could understand most of where he was describing, although I interrupted once to say, "I have a GPS. You could just give me the address."

But he couldn't, because this place didn't have an address, it was "just a spot."

Then he tossed down the marker and said, "I live right near there. I'm done for the day. I'll show you the way. Follow me."

He led me six or seven miles through two towns to "the spot," stopping now and then to jump out of his car and run back to tell me of another pretty place down a street we were passing.

His "spot" was beautiful. I shook his hand and thanked him for going out of his way for me.

"Not a problem," he said. "People do things for each other."

He made my day, and many other days as well, for I'll return to this spot of his.
Labels:

Comments

Voyager said…
You obviously touched something special in this stranger's heart. That's a gift. Beautiful photos.
V.
October 19, 2007 at 1:02 AM
Unknown said…
The story you tell is almost as beautiful as the photos you have taken.
I response to the question on the color in my photo on my site. I used photoshop on a black and white shot and highlighted the area with the magnetic lasso and then used the color balance to bring up the color I wanted. Before you do this you have to convert the color mode from grayscale to RGB. Hope this helps.
October 19, 2007 at 11:52 AM
Janice Thomson said…
Ruth this very nearly brought tears to my eyes. The spot IS beautiful and your photos are spectacular. You are truly talented with the camera founded on the compassion and beauty of your soul.
October 19, 2007 at 12:33 PM
Unknown said…
Oh my gosh, Ruth ~~ these shots are breathtaking! What an awesome story, too. You've inspired me to be braver about approaching people. :)
October 19, 2007 at 3:52 PM
raine said…
I wish I could get the clarity that your photos have. So awesome. Love the story, too. I frequently want to ask to take pictures but feel awkward about it...
October 20, 2007 at 7:03 AM
Jo said…
Oh, what a lovely story, and what exquisite photographs. I felt as if I could step right into them.

I want to live there :-)
October 21, 2007 at 10:02 PM
Anonymous said…
I only ever miss living in the northeast during the autumn, which is quite drab in the northwest. Such pretty pictures! Thanks for sharing.
October 22, 2007 at 3:04 PM
Barbara said…
WOW! These are museum quality pictures. Do you ever sell your photos? I could see a couple of these on my white walls!
October 23, 2007 at 10:36 AM
Ruth L.~ said…
Thank yu all for the nice comments. Taking pictures of beautiful things makes me look good! It's tough to spoil a beautiful scene, although I have not done justice to some.
October 24, 2007 at 1:17 PM
Belladonna said…
I lived in the Midwest for 10 years and still have vivid memories of the spectacular autumns there. These pictures brought back some great memories and got me up off my fat duff and out for a walk in the crunchy leaves. Where I live now it not nearly so colorful, but I'll take what I can get of the season changing.
October 24, 2007 at 10:06 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

For Alice~ She's home!!!!!!!

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson Sometimes it's all about knowing that loved ones and friends stand behind you, knowing that support is there on the down days, the worry days, the days when you feel off-center, out of sync, bedraggled emotionally, and in pain, but knowing all the while that you're not alone. You're not alone... Alice is an online friend--she lives in Hawaii-- who belongs to the writer's workshop that I do. We've only "met" online, but those who have online friendships know that they can be just as strong as those in-person relationships. Alice was hit by a car while walking, and is in the rehab phase of things. She's working to regain mobility after a broken pelvis, a broken arm, and a broken nose. It's scary to realize how, in the blink of an eye, life can lurch and our plans for a time are displaced by survival and healing. We...
37 comments
Read more

This retirement thing~

This retirement thing . . . it seems like it should be so easy, so effortless, so thrilling, to stop the daily grind. It is thrilling; at least I think it will be come September when I'm not following the school buses to work. But it's not easy. I had a plan book on my desk for 35 years, one I filled in weekly, scheduling new lessons at 45-minute intervals, meetings, parent conferences, and field trips. I knew what needed to be done and when. I got up at the same time everyday (5:45 a.m.), ate lunch at the same time (12:06 p.m.) and watched the kids pack their bags for home everyday at 2:15 p.m. I'm not sorry to give up that regimentation. But three weeks into the summer, I find myself making lists of things I need to do, and there is so much to do that I can't imagine how I managed while I was working eight hours on top of it all. There are the household chores, gardening, exercise (aren't retirees supposed to get fitter?), freelance writing, book reviewing, readin...
20 comments
Read more

Lesson from a Weed~

If dandelions could talk, here’s what I think they might say:  " Bloom where you’re planted, sink your roots deep. Smile in the sun, soak up the rain, and let the wind take you to new places." Dandelions are an early spring food for bees. They are often the first flower a young child picks for his mother and they provide a sweet moment for a mother to teach her child to make a wish and blow away the seeds. They speckle landscapes with lemon-colored glory. Common, and often disliked by those in favor of perfect lawns, we trample over them with hardly a thought. All this crossed my mind as I stood in this field of dandelions, most having gone to seed. I had an hour to myself at a retreat at a beautiful family farm on this day of unexpected sunshine and warmth. I was looking for a moment of stillness.   I’d watched two swans,   visited the alpacas,   chatted with the chickens, tried to coax a kit...
1 comment
Read more