The new place, sunset.

iPhone6 snap.

Deserted.

It’s a balmy 99F in downtown Phoenix right now and while the city may rise from the ashes tomorrow right now it is empty.

Some snaps showing the old and the new from this former wild west town:

All snaps on the iPhone 6, messed about with in LR.

History writ large.

Situated in the Connecticut River Valley, Deerfield dates back to 1673 when the first colonists arrived. The dastardly French hooked up with the Indians (none of whom had B1 visas) to sack the town and kill the colonists in 1704. Mercifully, this state of affairs did not last as the Indians were soon put back in their place, the frogs sent packing and civilization and commerce took their place.

Deerfield Academy remains in the center of Old Deerfield, much of a muchness when it comes to colonial architecture, having been founded in 1797 after the redcoats had been issued one way tickets home. Along with my son’s choice – Northfield Mount Hermon nearby – it is one of the eight Ivy League prep schools which means you are either poor and bright or you chose your parents well when it came to admission. Sometimes you get both smarts and luck in the gene pool.

Driving into Old Deerfield’s Old Main Street is to be transported back to the eighteenth century. Traffic here consists of a couple of locals walking their golden retrievers (limp wristed shi tzu owners need not apply), and the setting defines bucolic. I had a fine, extended chat with a local Visla, a magnificent Hungarian hunting dog. The only dismay was that my son and I did not encounter Katherine Hepburn at the Deerfield Inn where we stayed, pending his start at NMH nearby. Doubtless her ghost haunts the place.

A visit to western Massachusetts is highly recommended.

All snaps on the iPhone6.

Elegant understatement.

My son and I stopped by the JFK Presidential Library in Boston on the way to his new school in western Massachusetts, where he starts ninth grade on Friday.

The Library, designed by I.M. Pei, is a masterpiece of understated architecture, the exhibits spare and elegant. The small gallery dealing with that awful day in Dallas in November, 1963, is low key and very moving.

But it’s the last image which will resonate with Winston’s many friends who know what he went through this past year and the obstacles he had to overcome in securing his future.

At Columbia Point.

Snapped on the iPhone 6.

Overcast yet still splendid.

The Thursday before the Monterey Historics weekend always finds me in the paddock at the Laguna Seca racetrack to enjoy the eye candy on display. And to go a tad more deaf each year from the siren songs of all those motors being exercised.

This year the weather was unusually overcast, and the entrance fee has risen to $30, but neither put a damper on the occasion, for the display of classic cars was a wonderful as ever.

I took but two lenses, the 17mm and 45mm f/1.8 Olympus MFT optics, each on a Panny GX7 body and had at it.

Enjoy!

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