Its one thing to take picture of universally admired places like the Taj Mahal and Eiffel Tower. I wrote a series of posts about the struggle of finding something new to say in these most photographed places on the planet. I also enjoy the challenge of seeing beauty – or at least interest in some of the most mundane road side scenery. In this case the roadside weed.

Now there will be botanists that will take offense to description of these flowers and grasses as weeds, and in the springtime the sight would be lush and green.

These Ventura hills would be full of flowers instead of being limited to the few survivors.

The homely charm of the weeds was what attracted me. As I rode my bike past the dried remains I knew that there was beauty in the remains.

It becomes a wonderful exercise in composition and how the placement of similar stalks of grass in slighly different backgrounds and light can make such a significant change.

Mark Harmel
harmelphoto.com

The Fall morning chill is starting to return, prompting me to get another cup of coffee a reminisce about the week Anne and I spent on our first simi-staycation up the coast in Ventura, California.

She found a wonderful little beach house in the Pierpont neighborhood that still retained remnants of a simpler way of life where you chose to live near the beach because it allowed you to be close to your favorite surfing spot or to be near your favorite shore stroll with your morning coffee.

Our house for the week was a simple white wooden structure with enclosed patios in front and back, parquet wooden floors and birds-egg shell blue walls. Starfish graced the front window frame and sea shells and river rocks graced the bowls covering the dressers and living room coffee table.

Like many beach communities this one was in transition from the simple and stylish one story cottage structures to often cold and fortress-like beach McMansion structures.

The quaint decorations and the VW microbus and rusted pick-up trucks are starting to be replaced by the Audi in the driveway and architecture that communicates “stay away” more than stop on by for a drink.

I enjoyed my morning walk through my adopted neighborhood for a week during the quiet time before the buzz-saws and hammers broke the silence building the next big, faceless structure that will be one more step in change the beach way of living.

Mark Harmel
harmelphoto.com