the dark and empty skies
October 30, 2012
This far inland Hurricane Sandy proved a whimper.I took the pic last week and by now behind the storm-soaked clouds there’s a full moon.
I’m continuing with the set of images using the 70-210, f/4.5 lens. I’m looking up at the ramps for Interstate 376-South. I like the progression from the yellowish haze of the setting sun, to the pewter sky holding an almost full-moon, to the dark and empty gray.
Today is Connie’s b-day. She’s 57. The image below is from high school.
It’s funny to remember back to when she was born. The memories are scattered – I remember going upstairs to my parents’ bedroom and finding my mother in bed holding the new baby. The baby was all wrapped up in swaddling and looked very contained and quiet. I don’t remember if I was allowed to hold the new baby. I guess at 6 it wasn’t an option.
I also remember being allowed to use the outside stairs to go up to visit my mom and the new baby. I remember pushing the big door and it opened. At one time our house must have been two separate apartments and the outside steps, to the second floor, remained. We never used them, but the midwife la levatrice had used them when she came to the house. I remember telling my friends, for days afterwards, that if la levatrice came to your house she brought you a new baby.
My friends and I ran up and down these outside steps; we played cards on the narrow ledges; we played castles and knights on the landings; and from the very top steps, we spied on the neighbors. But the door to my parents’ bedroom was always locked except now that la levatrice was visiting. The only other time the door was open was at Christmas. My dad would get us a small pine tree from La Sila and put it up in this upstairs bedroom on top of his dresser. Friends and relatives would bring oranges with stems, torrone in cellophane and chocolates tied with ribbon to hang on the tree. For these holiday visits, the big second-floor door would be open. (On Christmas day I was allowed to eat all the tree decorations.)