Sunday, November 18, 2012

Photo of the Week: November 18, 2012

I never thought I’d miss snow.  Growing up in Maryland, there was no greater feeling than being able to stay home from school because of a snow day.  When snow was expected overnight, I’d wake up in the middle of the night and walk over to my bedroom window to see if any had actually fallen.  If it hadn’t, I’d do my homework that I thought should have done earlier.  But as an adult, winter weather has completely different implications.  Who among us wants to get out and drive in that stuff?  I quickly learned that in Atlanta and other parts of the South, they don’t get out and drive in it because everything shuts down.  Sometimes the shutdown is based on the forecast alone!  After experiencing a few southern snow “storms” I can certainly understand why.  One of those “storms” in 2010 made me realize what I miss about the snow.  I don’t actually miss the snow.  What I miss is the incredible artwork that it creates.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Photo of the Week: November 11, 2012

Back in 2008 I was asked to take photos of a few Obama campaign t-shirts.  I hired two models and off we went.  We took dozens of photos, but this was my favorite.  Although the message of "Hope" was not the dominant theme for the President's 2012 campaign, the statement made by this photo is even more relevant today than it was in 2008.  When I look at the couple, I don't see race.  I have no idea what they look like, where they're from, or what their backgrounds are.  I simply see two people united in solidarity and triumph.  Congratulations Mr. President.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Photo of the Week: November 4, 2012

One of my favorite places to visit when I want to connect with nature is Arabia Mountain in Lithonia, Georgia.  It is incredibly beautiful and serene.  I’ve watched many sunsets from the mountain but, until recently, had not enjoyed a sunrise.  A couple of weeks ago I decided it was time to experience a sunrise from my secret getaway.  I looked up the sunrise time and set off into the crisp morning darkness.  The mountain was beautiful as usual, though I had never seen it at that time of day.  As I explored the mountain, I watched the sky slowly brighten as sunrise approached.  Then at 7:47 the first sliver of the sun emerged from the horizon.  For the next two minutes, I watched in awe as the perfectly round orange ball of fire made its morning debut.