pam with sledge

The only natural history event of note was that the millpond not only wasn't cleaved in two, but the open water started again to refreeze and lose ground. No surprise here: it is, after all, just the beginning of February... we're not out of the meteorological winter woods... yet. So, instead of repeating myself, I thought I'd celebrate an anniversary—my career as a photojournalist is turning 40. It was, of course, way different back then. I wrote everything out longhand on yellow legal pads, but with a ball-point pen... I didn't use quills. My girlfriend Pam, the mother of those two charming urchins—Pam eventually became my wife (and, for better or worse, remains so); the urchins are, for all intents and purposes, my oldest kids—would then type the text. Pam would get a full-time job and I would have to learn to type. I still shot my pictures on something called film and developed and printed the shots in a darkroom. As if that wasn't quaint enough, well, here's Caleb and Kirsten getting a workout at our drinking fountain.