Bemus Point – Stow Ferry
I wasn’t positive I would write this post. I don’t usually share much about me other than my photography or trips to Walt Disney World. I also believe there are some events in your life that should only be held close to you. After saying all that I am going to break from my normal tendency…
This past week I traveled back home to say good-bye to my Grandpa. He was 46 days shy of his 101st birthday. It was time for him to rest. On Wednesday my daughter and I drove home to be with my Mom and sister, and to see Grandpa. He had had a stroke on Sunday. It was good that we went. Both kids and I drove back on Friday.
As Mom sat with one of the pastors who would be presiding at the funeral we got to share in Grandpa’s life. As he talked to Mom gathering little details for the ceremony I was amazed at how cathartic the experience was for her. Every story brought memories of other stories to share. I don’t think the pastor could write fast enough, p.s., my Mom can talk! What amazed me the most was hearing how those stories translated into a tribute to my Grandpa on Saturday. He weaved those tidbits of a hundred years into a beautiful expression of my Grandpa building a life with his hands.
That ceremony is why I am writing this post today. I expected more sad emotion on Saturday but that is not how the day progressed. My Mom, although sad for the reason people gathered, was happy to have everyone share in the life of her Father. It was a good day to say good-bye.
Me being who I am, I needed to get out with my camera. On Saturday morning I tried but the rain was not going to cooperate. On Sunday I was more successful. Although it had snowed during the night everything calmed down as soon as I arrived at my intended subject. Growing up near the middle of a 20 mile long lake had a few interesting opportunities. The middle of the lake is were the shortest distance across happens to be. There was a ferry to carry the cars back and forth. I remember riding it quite a few times as a kid. I wanted a picture of the ferry at sunrise.
I didn’t get the sunrise I wanted but I did capture some nice images in the cloud-filled, pre-dawn light. The ice had melted off the lake so the ferry was free to bob up and down with the currents in the lake. It made for some interesting choices for my exposures.
When I was in high school my 12th grade English teacher was able to pull quite a bit of creativity out of me. Up until her class you could say I hated English. My previous teachers focused on the technical side while she was more concerned with the creative. It worked for me. Her class introduced me to the following poem, which brings this whole post together. Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s “Crossing the Bar”
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.