Thursday, October 18, 2007
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.