Wander Fall Indiana

Tony and I started out at eight this morning equipped with his Magellan GPS wandering Hamilton County in search of fall images. This was the first time I'd drove out specifically to shoot photographs of Indiana. This was also the first time in some 30 year that I went driving in Indiana.

Despite forecasts for sun, the morning was dark, cold, and foggy. I took side streets, confident that if we "lost" our way we could always consult Tony's newfangled gadget. The most fun for me was simply finding my way by zigzagging through roads I had driven on before when I used to visit my friend, Aldo, near Cicero. And the fun was almost rapture when I would guess right trying to recognize wayside images I had not seen in years. Remembering can be sweet.
The lack of color actually worked well for me. It allowed for images that I would not have taken in the cacophony of colors in full sunlight. In fact when the sun did come out close to noon I found it too bright and didn't take many more pictures after that.

There is incredible build-up north of Indianapolis. Looking at how farms have disappeared to be replaced by estate housing and luxury apartment complexes I can understand how the country finds itself in a housing crisis. Builders have used the last 10 years to build, build, build.

At Morse Lake I could have used sunshine but again the gray light encouraged me to take pictures in a different way. I looked for colorful objects to shoot; I looked for contrast as though taking black-and-white photographs. The park was largely empty. I felt I was shooting a photographic essay of the world after summer abandons it. Everything looked sad but there was also a peacefulness that feels antithetical to the buoyant activity focus of summer in Indiana.
Tony remembered Gatewood, a farm produce store in Noblesville, that his GPS led us to find off Route 19. In 1940, James Gatewood, with the help of his son, Bill, started an egg-delivery business that grew into the present produce store on 206th Street. For me the charm of Indiana is not roaring falls or soaring mountains or scintillating oceans: it's the countryside establishments like the Gatewoods'.

Driving on the small Indiana roads with no specific destination in mind, certainly under no time constraint, suggested another way to enjoy my adopted home. I realized this morning that as much as I've inwardly and outwardly complained of being stuck in Indi-no-place, I've grown to love it. Hay rolls on empty fields, the yellow soy bean fields, cornfields with brown empty stalks against wide blue skies, pumpkins and mums in the fall, bags of apples: these have insinuated themselves into my imagination, into my core of memories.
I had not visited Morse Lake in some 20 years. Aldo and I have drifted apart, which one might expect as we grew older and memories of our friendship back in the Philippines fade against the many more and more recent new memories. It is as sad as deserted post-summer parks where only old men are left fishing on the reservoir. A young couple was playing disc golf, a game I didn't know until Tony pointed to some contraption on the green and I asked the young guy what they were playing. 

All in all this was an amazing day. I enjoyed the company of Tony but plan to go on photographic safaris here in Indiana by myself so I can take the time to really plan my photos. I could have, for instance, taken clearer pictures in the foggy morning had I mounted my camera on a tripod which I did bring along. I need to recognize that if I want to take professional photographs I need to be willing to take the time to do this well.