I don’t have a lot of old photos. Many of them never made it back from Israel and others went to my brother. When he passed, I suspect the old family photos vanished. They are probably in a carton in an attic somewhere.

The woodstove in the cabin by Pleasant River Lake. Maine, 1972
Me in 1972, taken by Ben Taylor in a field of ripe blueberries. I was 25.

This one was taken in a cabin in which we used to camp at Pleasant River Lake. It’s a big, deep, cold lake in northern Maine. I don’t know what’s happening there now. I know they clear-cut the area around it more than 30 years ago, so the cabin was knocked down with all the other cabins on the lake. This was a picture taken on an Olympus film camera in black-and-white because I could process black-and-white film myself. Color cost money — and in those days, a lot of money.

1970 – Twenty-three, five years married AND a mother (phew)

There are so many memories attached to old pictures and this one picture from the cabin in Maine — the ONLY picture I have from those summers by the lake when the loons called to one another at night brings back wistful memories of being young and looking forward with hope and passion.

Those really were the days.

Categories: #black-&-white-photography, #Photography, Anecdote, Cee's Photo Challenge, old photograph, Remembering - Memories

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2 replies

  1. And just think you thought you were old 1970. 😀 😀


    • I look at the me and I have this bizarre conflict. I feel like I’m exactly the same and then I look in a mirror and realize I’m not. But my brain feels as young as ever. If only time would just stop for a while. Go on pause and let us have five years just like we are. I think I’ll just pretend that’s exactly what is happening. Maybe if I believe it, it will be true.


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