So it was finally time to get out of Dodge … about six weeks or so of sleeping on an air mattress and we were getting ready to come home. The plans had changed with the passing of my wife’s father. Now we were bringing her mother back with us to stay. She has Alzheimer’s so it would be one day at a time, but at least we were coming back.

I do love Buffalo though, especially the junk food … Anderson’s soft serve ice cream, Ted’s, Anchor Bar, Duffs. But the jewel is Bocce Pizza.   As long as you go with double cheese and double sauce there is none finer. I know those from New York and Chicago might disagree and I am happy to discuss this matter here or offline. In any case, I ate three personal pies during the last two or three weeks. Double cheese, double sauce, with mushrooms and onions. The standard of course is double cheese, double sauce, mushrooms and pepperoni. I gave that up a long time ago, but I can still dream.

Our SUV wasn’t nearly large enough to get everything we would need to bring back from my mother in law’s condo so I needed to rent a truck. I had been to this rodeo before and figured a 12 footer would easily do the trick.

We found the place in a somewhat seedy location on the east side of town. I walked in to find Frank sitting at his desk eating one of the largest antipasti I had ever seen. It did look good though, and if I wasn’t a vegetarian I might have asked for a forkful given my sleep-deprived state of mind. As we were going trough the laborious paperwork out came Frank’s sidekick from the back room. I said hello and he told me his name … Frank. That’s two Franks for one business. Frank 2 was an agreeable fellow but after some introductory small talk he mentioned there had once been a third partner … Franco. Eventually Franco left, which thankfully made things somewhat less confusing.

Two Franks at one time was a lot to process, but three would be much too much for me! So I suggested we have a frank discussion. They quickly grasped the essence of my lame shtick and we had a few laughs until a large limo pulled up containing two very big scruffy guys outfitted in hunting garb. I checked to make sure that their names weren’t Frank, then signed on the doted line and left with my truck.

After taking a day to pack and load things up we were on our way. Driving a truck by yourself for almost eight hours gives you plenty of time to reflect on all sorts of things, and my bad humor from the previous day had got me thinking … about the need for us to be frank with others … but mostly with ourselves … about what is really important. To me that now means photographing only what I believe is compelling, interesting and entertaining to me.

It’s not important to me what’s hot, current or trending. Perhaps this isn’t helpful on a certain level, but I think it makes all the difference concerning what really matters. We only have so much creative time in our hectic lives, so it’s best to make that precious time count and create that which is meaningful.

Many American cities, especially in the Rust Belt, have decaying structures – relics of a bygone era. They serve as reminders of better times for those cities, the businesses that once thrived and the people they supported. In the case of Buffalo, the glory days were identified with mammoth grain elevators that reigned supreme on the Lake Erie waterfront near downtown. That is until the St. Lawrence Seaway opened in 1959 and the need for them ceased to exist.

Built in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries, they enabled Buffalo as the western terminus of the Erie Canal to become a distribution gateway for the Midwest’s bountiful supply of grain to the East Coast and Europe. The grain elevators helped Buffalo to become an economic success story that begat manufacturing and even more jobs. But in an instant it was over. The fortunes of the city changed and the decline began.

Today these once proud structures still stand like silent sentinels, unoccupied and alone … but still proud. They almost have a spiritual quality about them. While there is talk about their revitalization, that really hasn’t happened, short of some isolated efforts. This is a familiar problem facing many towns and cities across this country.

What needs to be done is to capture the beauty and honor of these great artifacts before they end up being torn down or “revitalized” into hotels, office buildings … or God help us … outlet centers.

I was aware of the elevators when I was growing up, but never really witnessed or cared about them. And I never thought about seeing them during the many times I had been back to visit after I graduated from college and moved away. I suspect this isn’t an atypical situation for many of us.

Now I want to see them and other monuments I neglected, but I will likely only come back here for visits to the cemetery to spend time with loved ones or attend the occasional high school reunion.

One of my favorite photographers is David Plowden, who describes himself as “an archeologist with a camera”, spending his life “one step ahead of the wrecking ball” to capture poignant images of the American landscape and historic American structures before they’re gone. All of his books are wonderful; I own several and have been fortunate enough to have met him at an opening of one of his many traveling exhibits.

Please think about the opportunities that exist to capture the power and beauty of these artifacts of a different … and perhaps better time. You may be rewarded beyond the images you make!

Now that we are dealing with a hospice situation I am finding I don’t have a lot of spare personal time. It seems I will be in Buffalo with my wife for a while, with a couple of days each week for me back in Doylestown so I can teach and do some necessities. That means most new photography will have to be done here … during small windows of opportunity.

I guess if you have read my last two entries, this is starting to sound like a travelogue. Hopefully you will keep reading and this will be somewhat of value. The point is that I have to be opportunistic … either for photographic prospects that won’t require too much time to try to exploit, going back to a location several times for a limited time if necessary, or having my camera nearby at the ready when I see something interesting or something happening.

That’s what happened the other night when I was going out to pick up some take out for dinner. It was nearing dusk and the snow had started to come down … the fluffy stuff that’s really nice that’s great to ski on or make snowmen with. Behind the building was a pond that had yet to freeze. The ducks were floating on the water, and the streetlight was lit. It reminded me of Paris. Not a bad thing to think about when things are not going the way you would like them to.

Needless to say, I ran back into the building, climbed the stairs and grabbed my camera bag. Photo Tip: It’s a good idea to have your camera loaded so you can move into action quickly. As the Roman philosopher Seneca said, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” Well, guess what, that advice has stood the test of time!

Time was of the essence as it would be dark soon and I would not be able to see the ducks that were now paddling away! I pulled out my spot meter, took a reading of the bright streetlight and opened up three stops beyond what the meter told me was the correct exposure (In an upcoming entry I will discuss a simplified version of the Zone System that can even be used for 35mm and roll film users).

I made five or six exposures with from a couple of different positions as the snow began to fall harder. Plus-X film at 1/30^th of a second, opened to f/5.6 and a click. Maybe I’ll get a keeper! Or maybe it will just be a bust. While I hope for the former, it doesn’t matter to me that much. What really matters is had I not made the effort I would never know the result, let alone have the opportunity to make a wonderful print – and that would truly bother me!

Making the effort is so much better than getting into the car because it’s snowing hard and it’s just too much of a bother to run back upstairs to get the camera!

Many would do that, or wouldn’t be prepared for the opportunity if it presented itself. Don’t be one of them. You will be much happier!

My wife and I have been traveling back and forth to upstate New York where her elderly parents live in order to make sure everything is alright, or to be there when one of them is sick or in the hospital. Like many their age they wish to remain at home, whether it’s the best idea or not. We were there two weeks ago and had just got back into the swing of things back home when we learned my wife’s father was in the hospital again.

We’ve been here for almost a week now, and when we will be leaving is pretty much an open-ended situation. Once you get finished taking care of all the things that need to be fixed, talking to caregivers and the VA, and making sure his car still runs because it hasn’t been started in over a month, there really isn’t much left to do other that go back and forth to the hospital several times a day and say some encouraging things at random moments.

Watching him in his weakened state and having a good idea what the likely prognosis is put me in a bit of a funk, causing me to wonder what I could possibly write about. I mentioned this to my wife. As we boarded the hospital elevator to go to the lobby she wisely suggested the idea of how precious time is.

By the time the doors opened I knew what I wanted to say. I began to thank about how this issue had actually been bothering me since we got here but because of everything happening I had tried to push it out of my mind … I couldn’t.

Watching him, I knew … and he knew … that there wasn’t a huge amount of time left. Despite a life lived, what could have been done, now could not be. How much of that life was wasted in terms of accomplishing the things that really mattered? Of course I immediately thought about myself.

I’ve wasted a lot of time in my life when I could have been more productive. It’s not hard for me to admit it. The reasons are many, some reasonable, many foolish, but in any case, far too many to bore you with. Now I’m 62 and it both saddens and scares me. Not so much because of the time squandered and the lost opportunities, but because I realize now that there is less time left. Maybe you have thought about this too. If not, perhaps you should … no matter how old or young you are.

I thought about my photography students at the Center for Learning in Retirement. Some are in they’re Eighties. They’re active and don’t want to waste any of their time. They want to explore the world around them and capture that which excites them. Their objectives range from keeping a visual diary to creating meaningful art. It doesn’t matter. They’re wise and have discovered that every personally meaningful moment is important … and yes … precious.

Our precious photographic time should not be squandered. Forget about the time you have already wasted. It’s gone. What’s left is all the time you have. Don’t waste it. Use it with purpose. It’s precious.