383 consecutive days. Like in a Row. Morning Walk to Cove Island Park. You’ll say, impossible. I’m telling you, you don’t understand the Wiring. Only 1 day during the streak that put it in jeopardy, and that’s a story for another day.
Back to this morning’s walk. Eric’s on My Mind.
We set up a makeshift office for him in the attic. A white IKEA desk. A desk chair from Staples. A floor mat under the chair from Amazon. A small single bed against the wall. And there he hibernates.
Late night, he shifts in the chair, the floorboards creak, his office directly above the Master bedroom. His chair directly on top of me, sleeping. He’ll be editing his photos, the same photos for hours. Days. The penguin from South Africa, that one up top, took weeks. Deliberate. Meticulous. Punctilious. Like a Professional.
He crawls into bed at ~3 a.m. About the time when his Dad, me, stirs, getting ready for his Daybreak walk.
He’ll bank frequent flier points and travel to exotic points. Planning his days, his flights, his hotels, his shoot locations for weeks. His Dad, would need to be crowbarred from the House — his Life full, meaning FULL, all within 50 miles of all points from the GPS location of his Bed.
Eric will sit on location waiting for just the right light, just the right conditions, camera securely resting on the tripod while the world comes to him. His Dad, is the anti-wait-for-anything. Time rushing, the World Rushing in from all directions, gushing over a spillway. Bad light here? Move. Nothing inspiring? Drive 10 miles to find Inspiration. And be damned if he won’t find it. Rachel Cusk: “You always try to force things … It’s as if you think nothing would ever happen, unless you made it.“
He’ll pull a cool drink from his pack while he sits and waits. His Dad, chewing the Hell out of his two sticks of Juicy Fruit gum, chomping in rhythm with his march to the next location, pausing only briefly to switch lenses— and this switch over, like a Nascar tire change, not a second wasted before he’s back in race again. Like a Shark, gotta keep moving to keep oxygen flowing to live.
It’s a few minutes past sunrise, the Big Show. I pause to watch two geese approaching overhead, silently, no honking, just the beat of wings. Wing flaps out, both slide and splash down into the Cove, leaving a wake behind them.
Elizabeth Bishop: “Why shouldn’t we, so generally addicted to the gigantic, at last have some small works of art, some short poems, short pieces of music […], some intimate, low-voiced, and delicate things in our mostly huge and roaring, glaring world?”
There’s my small work of art this morning. All experienced while my Son sleeps.
Thank God he’s not me.
Notes:
- Top Photo: Eric’s Photo at Cape Town, South Africa. Eric’s website here. Eric’s Instagram Site.
- Bottom Photo: DK @ Daybreak. 5:28 am, May 23, 2021. 67° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.
