Close is such a…such an oddly open word, know what I mean? It can mean nearby, it can mean emotionally connected. It can mean both, which is normally comforting. But it can also impart feelings of oppression, it can violate personal space, and if the “s” makes a “z” sound, then it’s not open at all.
As I am a self-appointed ambassador for spreading peace and love and joy (at least, for today I am), I’m focusing on the positive aspects of closeness. As I can’t make up my mind about which picture I have that I like best, I’m putting up several. I hope you enjoy them all.
I. LOVE. This dog. This was taken at Island Beach State Park in New Jersey on the day after Thanksgiving, 2011; it was uncharacteristically warm and we thought this would be a great place to walk off the previous day’s turkey (and pie, and mashed potatoes, and and and…). We saw this dog on the beach, ever vigilant (notice the posture of what you can see of the guy sitting behind him. I think he was napping), and I said to my boyfriend, “If anyone tried to get a hold of that pole they’d be sorry.” I thought the pooch’s dedication to his favorite human ought to be recorded for posterity. Judging by pooch’s proud look, he agreed.
One of the many things I enjoy about photography is the moment when you find that thing that makes you think about things you don’t expect it to make you think about. Dig? So I like to take pictures of how things work–I have tons of shots of gears and pulleys, and I decided to take a closeup of one of the many, many hooks and joists and doohickeys that hold a wooden roller coaster together. With the kids rolling past in the background I thought…what would this ride be like if that hook wasn’t sunk so securely into the wood? For the want of a nail, and all. The hook is a tiny, tiny thing in the overall picture of a roller coaster (when you think “roller coaster” do you think, “eye hooks” or do you think, “Wheeee!”?), but boy, does it ever matter. Give that hook a round of applause and the credit it richly deserves.
This is a picture of my boyfriend and (one of) my beautiful niece(s), taken last year, at the same amusement park. (Non-central-PA peeps, chances are good you’ve not heard of Knoebel’s Grove–I hadn’t until I moved here–but it is an absolute gem of Americana-style family entertainment and should be put on every family’s must-see list.) This was the first ride we went on and she unequivocally declared she wanted to sit next to Uncle George. Then she wrapped herself around his arm and pretended to be scared of the ride when in fact, she was (clearly) delighted.
Here are a few more wonderful contributions to the broad concept of “close”:
How would you interpret “close”?