… is the sincerest form of flattery, or so I’ve heard. As soon as I got to the canal I could see that the sun wasn’t going to cooperate with the photo I had hoped to get. I’d hoped to recreate a photo I’d seen that had the railroad bridge framed perfectly behind the Bourne Bridge, but with spectacular sunset color in the sky. Almost as soon as I got out with the camera and started walking to what I thought would be a good spot a walker started chatting with me and showing me some of the pictures he’s taken while walking in that area. Mark, I think he said his name was, and from Brockton, which we agreed had changed a lot since we both grew up there.
The sun was relentless early on, for pictures I mean. Then gray, muddy clouds took over the sky as the sunset color would have been developing. But at least there was the moon, and the almost naked trees. And if you turned to see the Bourne Bridge from the west side, said Mark, the bridge would turn pink as the color developed, but that didn’t happen, though the glow on the bridge was nice. There was only one other photographer out there with a tripod, and seemingly going for the same photo I wanted to get. He suddenly scrambled down and stood on the rocks to shoot, and spoiled my shot, I thought at first. Now I think he made the shot. I wonder if he posts on Sandwich News, Sandwich being a place and not, well, food. That’s where I saw the photo that inspired this stop along the way. This being out in someplace new and taking photos is addictive. There is an RV show in Boston this weekend, and a snow storm rolling in…
A Snowbird's Life Through the Lens 