Massachusetts: Summer Child

The warmer months are here. After a crescendo of heat followed by interminable weeks of afternoon downpours, the weather reaches a pleasant lull in the mid-summer, with nice crisp mornings and brilliant, sultry afternoons in the city. We take advantage of this window, and of a hiking backpack gifted by one of my work colleagues, to bring baby Jordan outside for a series of weekend summer walks in the urban woods near our home (in between weeknight sunset strolls along the Muddy River between dinner and bathtime). It’s been a lovely experience to introduce my kiddo to things that I had so little of during my own childhood: forests filled with birdsong, beautiful lakes and streams, fauna and flora that change with the seasons. Jordan, for his part, seems to enjoy these brief outings as much as an infant possibly could; he looks out at this beautiful verdant world, unfazed. If I had to guess what he feels from his expression alone, I would say there’s occasional wonder, but mostly bemused acceptance (perhaps bordering on boredom and growing irritation that we are so far away from his crib for his next nap).

Time is passing quickly now - accelerating, even. In a flash, seven months of Jordan’s life have gone by. In my work life, yet another academic year has rolled through and turned over. In my home life, gone already is the colicky newborn with his clinically indeterminate upper lip tie and unisex hospital beanie, replaced by a bouncing sack of energy that can’t seem to stop rolling, laughing at random words (“do you want a seastack?!”), making faces at new foods, and spinning counterclockwise in circles on the floor. In moments of impermanence like this, I am all the more grateful to be a photographer because (as I have written before) I often, involuntarily, connect image-making to meaning-making. if it weren’t for photography, I might not have noticed and appreciated what is rapidly passing me by.

As we hurtle toward the fall, I feel again that growing urge to do more, to see more, and to make more memories through my life experiences - to make my time count for as much as it can. It’s a familiar feeling, but I feel it this year more than all the others before. Becoming a parent has sharpened this sensation in my body- a powerful feeling that I identify less as memento mori (with its connotations of desperation and finality), and more an expansive, peaceful sense of connection between my transient self and the wider world. A desire to maximally love, be loved, and give something to the future. I am reminded of a few words that Elie Wiesel once shared, in an essay addressing why he writes: “Not to transmit an experience is to betray it.” I guess, then, that this constitutes my silent prayer on the page - to let my art, my work, and my relationships be the transmission of my experience.

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June 25, 2023: A brief morning amble in the Allandale Woods with Jane, Jordan, and my dad. We get a bit lost in the forest’s byzantine tangle of tiny footpaths and wind up walking back to the car along the VFW Parkway.

July 30, 2023: A stroll around Jamaica Pond and Wards Pond in the early morning. Jordan is more stable in the backpack now, his feet easily reaching the bottom footrest. We take a family portrait as Jordan chews on the pondside scenery.

August 6, 2023: An early morning walk through the woods between Willow Pond and Wards Pond. Bright orange jewelweeds (touch-me-nots) are in bloom, spangling the undergrowth with bursts of color. Even with baby on my back, I manage to sneak in some woodland compositions.

August 20, 2023: A morning photoshoot at Larz Anderson Park.

August 29, 2023: Heading out on my own to work up some compositions I’ve seen on my daily jogs along the Muddy River.

September 2, 2023: A family outing along the west side of Hammond Pond in Chestnut Hill. I test out my new tripod-adapted reflector kit and take gorgeous backlit outdoor portraits of Jane and baby.

September 3, 2023: A mid-day shoot at the Charles River Reservation in Allston.

September 17, 2023: A final set of family portraits during a Sunday morning stroll among the conifers and larches of the Arnold Arboretum, before the fall season arrives in earnest.

Massachusetts: A (Literal) New Leaf

It’s finally happened!

After many, many years, the blog sees a new addition to our family. The past few months have been a whirlwind. Ever since Jordan was born at the beginning of the year, Jane’s and my lives have been turned upside down and rightside up again. I went on leave from work from January through March, my days transformed into a blur of days and nights. The days: filled with chores, the maintenance of status quos, the feeding of hungry mouths, a Sisyphean struggle against the Second Law of Thermodynamics. The nights: hours of quiet alone time, chaotic awakenings, an endless search for podcasts, books, and audiobooks to occupy me between baby’s stirrings. The months have flown by, during which Jordan has grown from a mewling bundle of reflexes to a robust, sassy infant who coos and laughs and has opinions and wants (and only rudimentary ways of communicating them). While I haven’t had time for landscape photography, I have been taking plenty of snaps of baby in his new home.

The winter and spring have also pushed me to continue thinking deeply about where I want to take my life and my family, and how to find a new balance between my career and my own and my loved ones’ needs. I was gratified to find, upon returning to the hospital at the beginning of April, that I had missed the work, the connections and bonds formed in the course of working with patients, their loved ones, my colleagues, and my learners. I had thought that becoming a parent might upend my interests and goals, a world-shaking cataclysm and a loss of the before-life. But, I now realize that while the before-life has indeed been shaken up, parenthood has brought my priorities and needs into sharp relief rather than casting them aside. My days feel more meaningful, whether I am at home or in the hospital, the stories and encounters and memories more resonant than they were before. Now the challenge will be to walk the path, to continue finding energy and regenerative faith in my work, and in doing so to hopefully be a model for Jordan in his future life.

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April 29, 2023: After a few weeks of cold and rainy weather in Boston, we drive out to the Arnold Arboretum on a cold and rainy Saturday with baby and stroller in tow. After taking a short walk and finding a glade carpeted with blooming violets, buttercups, and dandelions, we set up the tripod (and wake up sleeping Jordan from his warm and cozy seat) to take our first family portrait in the great outdoors. Spring is here again in the Bay State, and with it the biggest of new beginnings.

May 6, 2023: A morning walk at Mt. Auburn Cemetery during baby’s first nap of the day. We take a series of family photos beside Halcyon Lake, beneath beautiful blooming azaleas, crabapples, and pink and white dogwood trees.

May 7, 2023: A warm spring day verging on the swelter of early summer. We take Jordan in the stroller over to Hall’s Pond Sanctuary here in Brookline, where a community clean-up and gardening day is underway. Jane spreads out a picnic mat for baby to lie on the grass in next-door Amory Park.

May 11, 2023: A mid-morning outing to Wollaston Beach in Quincy - Jordan’s first time seeing the ocean. We can only hang out on the sand for a little while before the sun becomes a bit much for baby. We grab seafood platters and a raspberry iced tea to-go at Tony’s Clam Shop and return home.

June 10, 2023: Short morning walks with baby J along the Muddy River, and to a nearby playground for some rolling fun on the grass.

Massachusetts: Two-Shore Summer

The summer has been a busy one for both Jane and me. After a few years of lead-up, we’re expecting a new addition to the family at the end of the year - our first child. To the usual slate of work responsibilities and few weeks off (I’ve usually taken my vacation weeks in the spring and fall, my favorite seasons for travel and prime landscape photography), we’ve added medical appointments and planning for home furnishing and childcare arrangements. With everything going on, I’ve honestly felt quite fatigued. Weekends, especially the hot ones, have been spent largely napping, resting, and being lazy. In the midst of it all, we’ve had to make intentional effort to go out, camera in tow, to photograph Massachusett’s beautiful greenery at the height of summer. More and more, we’re becoming cognizant that we may be making some of our final memories as a traveling, childfree couple. In a few more months, everything changes.

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July 17, 2022: A visit to Bird Park in Walpole, for a friend’s wedding gathering.

July 30, 2022: A spontaneous day out on the South Shore. We drive an hour out of the city to the Whitney and Thayer Woods in Cohasset. After a brief walk in the woods, we stop by the beach in Minot before grabbing lobster rolls, fried seafood, and iced tea at the Olde Salt House. After lunch, we drive along Jerusalem Road, visiting Holly Hill Farm and gawking at Cohasset’s seaside mansions. We return home via Hwy 3A, stopping along the way for Chinese groceries in Quincy.

August 13, 2022: A morning trip up to Smolak Farms in North Andover. After stopping at the farm store for amazing breakfast sandwiches, cider donuts, drinks, and honey, we walk around the property, say hello to Mister Pig, and visit the peach orchard to pick a big bag of yellow peaches.