What A Catch

So my dad and I were on the beach by 6. By that time this guy had already caught three fish. I never met him, nor did I even say hi as we walked past. Just his silhouette, the ocean, and the morning star.

Pretty in Pink

One of my favorites from the summer: a Barrel Cactus in bloom. If for whatever reason you find yourself lost in the desert, look for one of these guys...they always lean south.

Moonville

Rural Ohio at nightfall. If this isn't freaky as hell, I don't know what is. This is the Moonville Tunnel, circa mid 1800s. The town no longer exists, nor do the railroad tracks that once led through the tunnel. All that remains is a long, straight gravel path through the woods where the tracks once ran from a bygone era. That and the occasional telegraph pole.

Basket Blues

Does anyone go on picnics anymore? It must be a dying activity, seeing as though this table surely hasn't had anyone grace it for quite a while. That and Longaberger Basket Co. can't seem to make ends meet. Here's to the death of one more slice of Americana.

Fungi Fun

Ever take a moment to look at the smaller things in life? Like the fact that a simple fungus can be as cool looking as this. So delicate yet so deadly--some of these things pack enough wallup to kill a human. Look close and you'll maybe even see the little red insect near the crest of the mushroom. Wonder what he was thinking as I crept closer and closer with my camera? Sadly this orange beauty nolonger exists, for it was sacrificed in the name of human expansion (aka I accidentally stepped on it).

Older than you

A majestic Saguaro. These things can live for 300 years, weigh ten tons, and grow to over sixty feet. They are perfectly adapted for life in the desert. Their leaves are adapted into spines for protection and limited water loss. Their trunk absorbs light for photosynthesis (whereas leaves do in all other plants) and expands like an accordian when filled with water. They are the sentinels of the desert, and I miss them dearly.

Salt Box

Home sweet home, but for how much longer?. I've grown up under the roof of 6944 Bonnie Brae Lane for the last 20 years of my life. It is the only home I have ever known. But it recently came to me that my parents, who have been empty-nested since I've been at school, will not live there forever. The thought of moving is alien to me. This is my house...nobody else's. The thought of some stranger family living under this roof, with some drooling baby making my bedroom smell like diapers, some suburban dad neglecting the handiwork my own father has done on the house...the list goes on. One year from now I don't know where I will be. Two years from now I don't know where my parents will be. Three years from now I have no idea who will be living in this house.

Keep Out

I found it funny that all national parks have barbed-wire fences that define their boundaries when one of the park service's primary goals is to provide for the recooperation and survival of endangered species. Sure most animals can jump the fence or burrow under it, but I figure the last thing the service should be doing is contributing to the already extensive array of physical barriers the face migrating speceis. Like highways, home construction, poaching and a 40-year drought isn't enough.

Carmen Ohio

Oh come lets sing Ohio's praise,
and songs to Alma Mater raise.
While our hearts rebounding thrill,
with joy which death alone can still.
Summer's heat and winter's cold,
the seasons pass the years will roll,
time and change will surely show,
how firm thy friendship, O-HI-O!

Ohio State: 37
Cincinnati: 7
Sept. 16, 2006

Sirens

How well do you remember your Greek mythology? Well, in case you're a bit rusty, the greek king Odysseus, during his epic journey (aka the "Odyssey") had to return home to Ithaca after burning Troy to the ground. However, the city-state of Troy was a holy city devoted to the reverence of the god of the sun, Apollo. This bode poorly for Odysseus, since he had to return home over the Aegean sea to Ithaca. Now Apollo had a friend, a fellow god named Poseidon. Poseidon was the god of the sea (and of horses for what it's worth), and so he took it upon himself to make roguh seas and impede Odysseus' return. To make matters worse, during one of Poseidon's tempests, Odysseus' ship ran ashore on an island ruled by a hideous, cannibalistic cyclops named Polyphemus. He was big and angry, and he was also one of Poseidon's many illegitimate sons. Anyways, one thing led to another--polyphemus ate a few of Odysseus' men--so Odysseus poked out Polyphemus' single eye with a huge pointed tree branch. Odysseus and his men escaped and returned to their ship, but by now Poseidon was irate! He vowed to never allow Odysseus return home, so he crafted a whole host of obstacles to hinder Odysseus' voyage. One such of these hindrances were the "sirens". These beauties, (featured in O'Brother Where Art Thou?) tempted sea-weary men with their beautiful voices. Myth has it that once a man heard their voices they became transfixed by the sound and could not be deterred from following the voices to their source. There is much more to the story, and I could go on forever, but I won't. The relation of this story to my photo is simple. Just as Odysseus and many others were lured by the seemingly innocent and intriguing voice of the sirens, so too was the moth captured by the lure of light. In a world of danger and darkness, something reached out--a welcome in disguise--that eventually led only to the moth's crispy demise. And who says mythology doesn't apply to the real world. sheesh.

TickTock

Does anyone truly appreciate each second that ticks by? I surely don't. With each tick of those hands my collegiate career shortens. My senior research is due one second sooner. My time to find a job shortens. I will be separated from my friends one second sooner. My life is 1/60 of a minute closer to being over. If that's not freaky, I don't know what is.

Enjoy your time wherever you are in life, cuz you only get this one shot. Enjoy the friendships you've made. Call your mother. Give back to those who have given to you. Life is short but it is also good--live it up.

Palmetto

Hilton Head by moonlight. My favorite time to walk the beach and have a cigar and some brewskies with my brother. We've been going here almost every year now for the past five years. To me, nothing feels more like summer than this.

SAGU

I took this as I left Saguaro NP for the last time this past summer. The whole ordeal was a bit odd, really. The park was closed, so I had to have a key to get out of the gate. By the time I finally left, the rest of the park staff had already gone home. This was nothing new...I had been last to leave on more than one occasion. The only difference this time was that I was not coming back. After letting myself out I took a moment to reflect on the summer and all that had happened during my stay in AZ. From freak dust storms, to monsoon flooding, to being attacked by hummingbirds...I had seen it all. Anyways, while a woman and her daughers watched confusedly, I hid the key under a nearby rock and waved to them as I drove by. They didn't wave back.

Poking Hades

Ahhhh, yes. I'm sorry, heeding the advice of my mentor/coach/inspiration/nemesis (kidding) Nick Moulakis, I'm trying to only post pictures that I take "during that day". There will be a few, however, that I sneak in there from bygone days. Here's Moulak and I prodding the fire at Burr Oak State Park our sophomore year. I just love this one. Fun with long exposure! (Disclaimer: photo actually taken by Scott Bennett)

Sweet Redemption

The morning after...no, not the pill. I'm talking about the morning after Ohio State's 24-7 romping of Texas. My hat here has been through a lot...victories and losses both. In all actuality it was not really morning but more like 2pm by the time I finally got out of bed. Oh well, college football season is upon us so why bother getting up on sundays?

Five Years Later

Well its been five years now since that fateful day during my Junior year of HS. I remember the morning like it was yesterday. I had just bought a doughnut from the cafeteria (having left home without eating breakfast) and walked into Senora Marker's AP Spanish class just in time to see the second plane hit the World Trade Center. It's odd, really...sometimes I wish I could forget about the events of that day...that we as a nation could move on and leave behind the horrors of the past. Yet each year I find myself glued to the television, absorbing every feasable ounce of coverage. Don't ever forget.