It’s a big lake; it’s a really big lake. The big laker loading at United Agricor A is spewing ballast. You can spend an entire life time in this city and never see the lake. I wedge myself between the elevator and the ship building yard. From the water stand pillars, all that’s left of the original dock; the smell of life and the sound of the birds. Envisioned in black and white the scene is time less, and could be related to any period; the tug, a break wall, and Pascol Engineering’s crane. The boom moves back and forth up and down, pivoting on its axis. Nothing is being taken on or off the ship in dry dock. I wonder if the operator is watching me watch him. This is dance, and act, a ballet; Performed by him for me. We entertain each other, him with the crane, and me with the camera. I climb off the 10ft fence; my camera is empty and full. The film has be used, film filled. The public launch, a seagull’s lunch, the remains of a longshoreman’s legacy. She calls it the ocean, but it’s a really big lake.
A person can drown in their bowl of soup - in that light a lake could just as well be an ocean... I liked many of your Sunday pics.
BTW - iwas was bored and googled http://?????.typepad.com/ with different surnames - it was smith before you, also a heavy drinker and one good at prayers. Never know what this world might offer if you aren't a bit curious. bmm
http://keechi.typepad.com/
Posted by: Brad Michael Moore | Friday, February 17, 2006 at 02:00 AM
Worriedman... you are a true internet Voyeur, I love it. But who are you... your url leads only to more mystery. I enjoy veagabonding broadband as well, leaving only hints, light digital foot prints forever engrained in the bandwith.
Posted by: Chris | Thursday, March 02, 2006 at 10:06 PM