Remarkably simple concept. Remarkably difficult to execute. Cars, people, trash cans: get out of my way. I couldn’t get all the pictures I wished
Christmas Day in New Orleans this year was extremely foggy. I got to see fog creeping across the river and head to the downtown area. It was eery! And moved a lot faster than I thought it would.
I decided to take a few pictures of the bridge being completely covered in fog while I had the chance.
I focused on the foreground to add some interest and color to the scene for the second set of pictures I took. I had a hard time controlling the view since it was not easy to simply break a branch here in there. The terrain of the river bank was a it rough. But I got a few I was satisfied with.
Small scenes from St. Louis No. 1 Cemetery in New Orleans. I like how the plant appears to grab at death, as if to shoo it away behind the tombs. Or courageously claw at it–protecting us.
But this is an illusion. We are trapped in this maze.The maze is suffocating. Yet, we are are still here walking the same paths over and over bumping into the same obstacles.
I suppose it is better than not existing and not walking the same paths. Then again, I don’t really know that.
All I know is that there is no escape from this path.
What will rule humans like we rule chickens? Giant bacteria monsters like The Blob? Or giant algae sucking up our oxygen. There was a bacteria which caused a giant oxygenating event 2.3 billion years ago which led to life today. What if algae took over and ate all our oxygen in a “giant de-oxygenating event”?
DOOMSDAY ALGAE. NO OXYGEN. Do I worry about stupid stuff? Yes! Yes, I do. OR DO I?
From the time I was a young teen, I have enjoyed having pictures taken of me molesting (licking, petting, looking at with ‘sexy eyes’) trees and statues. What can I say? I love nature, and I love art. So, this love can only lead to my sticking a finger in a statue’s ear or pretending it goosed me.
I save the tree-licking for my very exclusive facebook page where I friend people at random. Such boldness is usually inspired by a couple of lemoncello martinis or whiskey sours. The licking? No! The friending. Oh, the many rejections I have faced. The worst is when I get defriended. Garsh. What part of a random stranger friending you and commenting relentlessly is bothersome? I don’t get it.
BTW, do you have any idea how hard it is for me to type ‘statue’ instead of ‘statute’? [oooh. The quote went before the punctuation. How un-Chicago Manual of Style for Sheep of me.]
Oh, the friend that my hubster brought with him was slightly disturbed yet laughing at the scene. He couldn’t imagine how I got Sergio to the point where he was immune to my social gaffes. Well, it’s just a question of exposure.
What’s nice is that Sergio did not take crappy blurred shots this time. Of course, I did have to scream at him through my smile to tell him to keep his hands still. DAMMIT THE CAMERA IS NOT DONE.
This is the older of the three cemeteries I had a chance to visit over Easter weekend. They call the cemeteries w above-ground tombs Cities of the Dead. It is an apt name. Most cemeteries I have visited the dead buried in facing one direction. I haven’t ever been to a cemetery where the Romany (aka Gypsies, which some consider a pejorative term) are buried. They traditionally bury their dead standing. However, I just bet the graves face one direction.
In the New Orleans cemeteries, the family tombs are organized along what can only be described as streets. And, there are distinct alleyways. There seems to be a main avenue and then side streets, too. In St. Louis No. 1, though, there are also segregated portions based on religion.
That reminded me of the lovely Concordia Cemetery in El Paso, Texas. But, Concordia has all kinds of sections (Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, Mason, Chinese, the Nursery). And, I bet the corpses are mummified rather than completely disintegrated as they are in New Orleans. (yeah, because that’s something to ponder. I’ll just store it under ‘potential for zombies.’ But, wouldn’t a mummified zombie be awfully brittle?? Not much of a threat, really.)
AAH! Why do I sit here considering the type and danger level of zombies in graveyards? There aren’t any. I wander cemeteries on a regular basis. I have never seen a ghost, heard a strange noise, felt an odd breeze, or been attacked by zombies. In reality, what horrifies me the most are the graves of young mothers and their dead children. Particularly when the family plot contains so many children who lived for a just a few days…and sometimes just a day.
Recently, pop star Libby Allen suffered her second still-birth. While the media called it a miscarriage, she actually lost a six month fetus. That is a still-birth, not a miscarriage. How awful for her. I wonder if many of those dead infants in cemeteries were still-born. I’m not even sure how a person would go about researching such a thing.
Let me say right off the bat that I did not take a pic of every cute place I saw. I had to pick based on the lighting and time of day. I hate humans ruining my shots of architecture. Also, I couldn’t always avoid street signs and cars. Part of me was trying to capture what the eye sees as the brain blocks out the background interference of power lines, trash cans, and parking signs. So, not exactly reality, right? Shoot. Reality is overrated.
I have never posted so many photos in one post before. But, I couldn’t stop myself. I have loved the homes of the French Quarter since I was a child and my parents first brought me there. At the time (I was like 9 or 10) it seemed so big and intimidating. Now that I’m older, I see how much protection the area requires to survive.
If you get down to the Garden District, you should really take some time to stroll around this cemetery. Unlike St. Louis Nos. 1 and 2, there are numerous trees, which makes the walk a lot less heat-stroke-inducing. Plus, the family tombs are much more colorful and maintained. Except for the ones that popped open and were subjected to my flash, of course!
I wasn’t even the least bit tipsy when I went off chasing bubbles like a cat attacking a laser pen’s red beam. Sure, I almost got run over. And, the guys I was with made certain to distance themselves from me while simultaneously pointing and laughing. I wish I were able to get clearer bubble close-ups. There’s a goal for me: making the perfect close-up bubble picture.