What's old, what's lost

Two old technologies together in one package are shown here -- they are from an old house we were in recently (the shot is from the floor looking toward the ceiling, and "up-door' view). The shot got me thinking -- a lot of old technology goes by the way side because it gets replaced by better more useful ways of doing things. For instance, the old key and lock in the picture. There's no doubt that modern locks are a lot more secure. What was good technology for its time has to give way to the new.

But the glass door knob is a different thing. It's mostly been replaced by metal knobs with faux finishes. I don't see them as something better. The old glass knob had an aire of refinement and grace. While it didn't turn the lock any better than new ones, it didn't turn it any less efficiently either. On the other hand, the glass knob kept its luster for much longer than it's metal replacement - a simple cleaning wiped away the inevitable grime that builds up on door knobs.

I say bring the glass knobs back. We could use more refinement and grace in our lives.


--steve buser

To sleep, perchance to dream

A quiet room. Subdued light. A comfy stroller. A tired child.


Adds up to a cozy nap.


We were at a open-house/Saints-game party that my brother-in-law Bob was having this past Sunday in New Orleans. Meanwhile, my granddaughter Sophie made use of this back room bedroom of the Chippewa Street home.


I guess they should add that to the sales brochure. "Marble counter tops, renovated wood floors. Bedroom comes pre-dreamed-in . . ."


By the way, the dreams were considerably better than the game.


--steve buser

Berry Merry Christmas

We ran into these berries while visiting our daughter's family in College Station over Christmas. I had never put it together that these berries were around for the holidays. I guess that cutsy saying, "Have a Berry Merry Christmas" was true to life.

--steve buser

Make sure you stop by and see New Orleans Daily Photo while your here

Flying fearlessly

You're big now. Four-years-old. Nearly a man. It's time to take the big leap. Grab that motorcycle by the handle grips and leave the bounds of earth. Mother Earth. Cut the strings. It may be only for a second or two, but you are flying into a place where only clouds and eagles live.

Again and again. Around and around. Almost seems like a ride at the fair. Almost.

Our grandson Sullivan shows how it's done. Who would have thought that out of all those motorcycles, he would get the fastest, meanest, highest-flying of the whole bunch? Who would have thunk it.

Only the bravest of the brave.

--steve buser

Slipping out to sea.

Looking back out the plane window as we jet out of Houston, the alluvial deposits sparkle in the late after noon sun. The City of Anahuac is in the lower left on the shore of Lake Anahuac. That lake is released through a dam which is barely visible into the Trinity River. The Trinity isa line come in from the right of the picture and taking a sharp turn toward the top of the picture right in the center. It spills through a channel into Trinity Bay.


The water finds its way from there into Galveston Bay that comes up to Houston. Eventually the effluent makes its way out to the Gulf of Mexico. But before it does, it makes a lot of sailboat enthusiasts happy and makes it possible for large ships to come into Houston.

So much for all the commerce and geography. I just thought it was an interesting shot.

-steve buser

Shared existence

 

The single stalk of grass owes its existence to the weathered fence behind it. Snuggled close to the aging boards, the grass is inaccessible to lawnmowers chomping by. So what can it give back to the fence? It's too small to offer much shade from the weathering of the sun or the the pounding rains. Just companionship, that is all it can offer. They live separate existence. Neither aware that their fates are intertwined.


-- steve buser

Sunset jet stream

The last rays of the sun capture this high flying streaker. Standing on the ground, it was obvious that the plain was zooming across the sky. The camera, lens however, looses track of up, down -- a sort of vertigo, loosing track of the horizon. The effect makes it look like a comet striking down.

In a sense, it's a kind of metaphor for life. Loose track of what's terra firma in your life and things that are just streaking by you seemed to be crashing down on you.

--steve buser

Bird watching

This critter is one of the regulars at the Trinity River Mouth Waterbird Rookery on the east side of the I-10 bridge over the Trinity River. The Rookery has a parking area and a overlook pier that makes a favorite spot for bird watchin. Bring binoculars -- the view is incredible but the action is often on the other side of the lake. Look for Anhingas, White Ibis, Little Blue Herons, and Roseate Spoonbills in this area. It is incredible that a site such as this is available just off the I-10.

So what's this guy doing there? Well, birds sometime slip from the trees.

Boy in a bubble

Another shot from the Downtown Aquarium in Houston. Our grandson, Sullivan, gets a fish-eyed view into a tank filled with sting rays.

--steve buser

It's Christmas time in the village

The Christmas Village, where time stands still. Peace and warm lights. Snow, for sure, but not the messy kind. No traffic. No snarling faces. No fences. No jails. No crime. No run down buildings -- they're all ideal, architecturally perfect.


I was just preoccupying myself for a few moments at my daughter Vicky's house and started shooting pictures of the Christmas Village on her counter.


The Village has been reinforced over and over in our mind from young ages. It lays deep in our psyche. For one moment in time --- a week, a fortnight, a day, a morning -- we drop our defenses, our bickering, our jostling and enjoy the peace of the season with one another.


It's Christmas time in the Village. May yours be Merry and Bright.

Fog focused

A walk along the waterfront in Victoria on Vancouver Island. The fog doesn't let distractions sneak in. You're fully in the moment. Strolling. Sharing the moment with friends. Even the cold seems more of a friend than an enemy. The water is only making soft rippling sounds. The birds are quiet. "Why sing when you don't know what lurks?" they think.


The quiet stillness of fog. One could say the focus of fog.




--steve buser

Ferried away

One of life's simple pleasures -- the ferry boat ride. The water and the waves. The passing ships. The eager seagulls. The sea breezes. Kids of all ages love it And why not. Fifteen minutes off from the regular world into a world which we share with explorers of yore. This is the ferry from the Bolivar Peninsula to Galveston Island, Texas.


--steve buser