Roll #35: 'Round Here

Updated: Feb 19

Step out the front door like a ghost Into the fog where no one notices The contrast of white on white. And in between the moon and you The angels get a better view Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right. I walk in the air between the rain Through myself and back again


'Round here we always stand up straight 'Round here something radiates

Film, like our two legs, can cover great distances.

While rare, a multi-location roll is a thing of beauty. When developed, it takes the photographer back to special moments associated with not one, but two, three, maybe even four locations. It's a time machine that rips your soul into fractions, transporting a tiny piece back to each respective location. With every image, the sounds, smells, and of course, sights, come rushing back. Just as the faintest ink is more powerful than the strongest memory, the negative and the images they produce is degrees more powerful than the best mental picture. They capture the endearing nuances of an experience often lost to time.

In a decade will your unaided mind remember the weather? Will you remember how you looked? The way the light filtered through the leaf-dense canopy? The shadows of leaves as the trudge their way along a tributary? Most importantly, will you remember you walked around the US Naval Academy with a pair of socks featuring a Hawaiian-shirt donning dachshund?


I know mine won't.


So, like a bear preparing for the winter, I'm stockpiling these moments in the form of images. Tangible-hold to the light negatives, to peer into the past.

Some of these moments twist the ordinary into the extraordinary. When you blink a bit slower and relax your mind, rushing water becomes a silk scarf fluttering in the wind. Leaves, suspended by crystal clear water become hovercraft, cautiously navigating their way across an alien planet.

Peace can be obtained in the most turbulent situations. The roar of rushing water easily buried when you too are buried in a good book. A cool mist settles on the pages. Like magic they sit atop the paper and eventually soak into its fibers. Within minutes, the freckles disappear---evaporated.

As we climb, the noise becomes faint. A whisper in your ear.


From above we view where we were---like a diorama, the world shrinks until it fits in the palm of our hand.


Boulders become pebbles.


People become ants.

By shrinking the world we are able to appreciate its greatness.

Camera: Canon EOS Kiss III

Film: Kodak TMAX 100

When: October 2019

Where: Annapolis, Maryland; Great Falls, Virginia


Lyrics: Counting Crows, "Round Here"

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©2019 by Taylor Mackay