Because of moving around to different churches, I never really understood the idea of “hometown” very well. You’re supposed to know everyone, the best time of day for fresh bread from So&So Bakery, etc. The closest thing I had to a hometown was Watertown. My mother’s parents and sister lived here. I went to boarding school here. It was the one constant place in my young life.
These pictures are from an island park a few blocks from my grandparents’ place and another few blocks from the school. My grandfather took my brother and me down the hill in that old blue Buick to feed the ducks along the gravel shore for years. Sometimes, if he had the energy, we’d cross the bridge and walk around the island.
I always saw the old railroad bridge as a sort of portal: if I crossed it at the right time on the right day, I’d cross over into Elsewhere. I was always a little disappointed when that didn’t happen.
The island is very small; 5 minutes and you’re on the other side, near the mill. I have no clue if the mill is used at all–doesn’t look like it. Grandpa would warn me every time to stay off that wall, but I’d hop on anyway, certain I just needed to go a little further to complete the crossing.
I was rather keen to escape life from little on, I guess.
Perhaps you have such a place in your childhood, someplace where the world gives way to another. Seek it out. Capture it, if you can.
Such beautiful pictures!!
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Thank you kindly.
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You got my full attention at the word “portal”. For some reason I still believe in portals and hope I won’t miss the chance when I come across one 🙂
Love your photographs, you grew up in a beautiful land.
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Thank you–I have always considered myself blessed to have lived in Wisconsin for the majority of my life. As for me, I am still on the lookout for portals, too. Even the strange tree trunk bending round a path like an arch feels like one to me.
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Oh I hear you 🙂
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My childhood summers were spent in Lake Geneva Wisconsin, and that place holds wonderful memories for me.
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I’ve only passed through the area, but I know what you mean. Some places are eternally of the past, no matter how they change, and they ignite a lovely warmth in memory. I’m glad you enjoyed this!
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I can see why that’s a portal. It has that magical quality. It’s stunning. My portals are places which can switch mood depending on the weather, the lighting. Mine 2 childhood ones were an overgrown park with a lake and small island and a small lighthouse. I would love to see Cathedral Cove in New Zealand.
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Oooo, the Cathedral Cove! Yet you know, your places sound more fascinating. It’s the places left to the side, mostly forgotten, that intrigue me the most. Everyday life happens all around them, yet they stand, untouched by time.
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I remember one day venturing to the lighthouse during a storm. Waves crashing over the top. I would hold my breath as the little structure disappeared behind the wall of water, hoping it would reappear. That was one hell of a portal. I remember being lost with Holmes on some bleak landscape battling Moriaty. Boy did I get wet that day…..
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