Muted colors and flying flakes caught my eye on this street.
According to the plaque that is affixed at the Major Dick Winters statue, “They are not dead who live in the hearts they leave behind”. This an old Tuscarora indian proverb,and kind of reminds me of how I feel sometimes. For some reason I always worried I would die one day and no one would ever remember me. I used to do public slide shows and at the beginning I would speak and usually mention I hoped folks would remember me as a great photographer. Seems kind of ridiculous to think that is my aspiration, but I would also always say why should I care when I am gone whether anyone remembers me or not. I am not sure where I ever got the idea that being remembered for that reason made sense but I do know several talented photographers that I look up to and even though their character is what makes them, their talent is always what sticks in my mind.