infinite glory from the Ballard Bridge
Yesterday, Oliver Fern and I headed cross-town to Ballard where little old ladies with badly deteriorated driving skills once upon a time ruled the roadways with their big green Chrysler Newports but now reside in nursing homes on Phinney Ridge, having long since been replaced by enormous condominium and apartment complexes (scattered around the neighborhood like a mini-Vancouver, B.C.) and cool-dude thirtysomething white guy dads with thick, wavy Wayne Coyne-hair. Hoisted big boy into the backpack carrier and strode past boatyards where taciturn swedes squinted with bemusement at big man. Discovered the walkways on the Ballard Bridge are distressingly narrow for big boys and big men and had to hunch sideways for cement mixers and Metro buses and bicycle commuters.
The shot above is 140 mm from a Nikkor 70-200. Gosh, I’ve really wanted to shoot up here for a long time! Nothing groundbreaking but very enjoyable shooting. Remember, I live cross-town where we don’t have boatyards (but we have more trees). I shot around Fishermen’s Terminal between the boats last year, but I think I like it much more from this vantage. You can get some very nice shots if you come here on a good day but the bridge is quite unpleasant (loud as fuck and dusty as heck). Oliver was a very good boy in the carrier (though now that he’s getting taller he kicks me in the butt a lot whilst swinging his feet with joy, haha!) and held mostly still. I was shooting off the tripod but I still need to be able to get focus through the viewfinder and if he gets excited I have to wait for him to chill.
After our adventure on the bridge we instructed a fellow immediately down below on how to find the camera shop on Market Avenue, he had a large telescope he wanted to take in for expert advice. He said he was a contractor from up north (he helped build the weird little cafe practically under the bridge). I found talking with him somewhat aggravating due to his wraparound sunglasses. Communicating face-to-face with people who are wearing sunglasses is one of my personal pet peeves, I find it ridiculously distracting. Nevertheless, he was a nice man and I repeated directions to the camera shop about ten and a half times. After that, Oliver and I stopped by the art store to pick up several books of drawing paper. Then we dropped in unannounced on an old boss of mine, who just retired last year. She thought Oliver and I were the plumber, who was scheduled to arrive at one o’clock. It was a nice visit. I didn’t ask for clarification regarding her plumbing issues.