Badges

I’m probably the worst Shore-born person to try to explain beach badges, because I don’t remember ever owning or using one. (I only go to the beach during off-seasons, or after dark. My mother and I gave up our Annual Trek to the Beach™ sometime in the mid-1990s.)

As far as I know, beach badges are little… badges… with a pin… that proclaim you’re a paying beach customer. Some are daily passes, some are seasonal passes… you know.

What I find interesting is how little they’ve changed over the years. This particular display started with 1948 and went through to 2001; all the badges consistently used the same little squiggly pin.

Spiky little jerks

Moss is moss is moss.

Did you know there’s a page dedicated to moss on Tumblr? It’s pretty enthusiastic.

Boat on a bridge

This was taken on November 25, 2012, a month after Hurricane Sandy swept away east coast.

The boat is lying on a bridge in the Sea Bright-Rumson area… maybe the Shrewsbury River? I wasn’t the navigator, so I’m not entirely sure where this was.
Ed.: The navigator speaks!— this is the Navesink River, as seen from Middletown, NJ.

This represents the level of destruction in that area, I think… as long as the road was passable, a boat on a bridge didn’t fricking matter.

Monochrome

This is where I’d write something about this photo, if I had anything to say about it, but I don’t.

Lying on the ground

Confession: I haven’t been out shooting much since Hurricane Sandy. It’s seemed pointless. And now that winter’s upon us, well, everything’s dead and ugly in the winter, and therefore winter photography requires more creativity and thinking outside the box than I’m inclined to do at the moment.

“So why, then,” you ask, “do you keep assaulting us with lousy photos and halfhearted posts? Why not just stop blogging, or at least take a break?”

“Because,” I reply, “I’ve always been prone to unmotivated lethargy. It’s the whole reason I started this photoblog in the first place. I’m supposed to force myself to get out and take photos when I don’t feel like doing it. That’s the whole point. And if I stop, I know myself, I’ll never start it back up again. Better to push through!”

Usually, this kind of mopeyness resolves itself within a month or two; I’ll admit this has gone on longer than I should’ve let it. (And don’t worry, the rest of my life is fine— it’s only my interest in photography that’s in a bit of a lull.)

I bring this up now mostly to explain why all my photos this week are going to be outdated and ugly (again)— I didn’t get out to shoot at all this weekend (again). This here is a detail of the abandoned Rahway Valley Railroad.

Sand

Eh. Just a beach.

Frozen volleyball

This shot might’ve actually worked in better light, but so it goes. I’m sorry.

(Grove Park, New Providence)

Filigree

The snow from last week’s blizzard has been melting and freezing and melting and freezing and making all kinds of interesting shapes.

On a COMPLETELY unrelated note— while researching to see if the term “filigree” applied to glass as well as metal (‘cos ice is more glassy than metallic, right?), I though maybe “lampwork” was a better term for lacy glass… so I consulted the internet to find visual examples of lampwork that weren’t smooth glass beads, and I stumbled upon made-to-order glass microbe brooches. WHAT. Totally on my to-buy list, as soon as I figure out what microbe I’d wear.

Things change

Last February, on a Weird NJ message board, I saw a tip for some old abandoned greenhouse in New Providence. I don’t know if this is what they meant, but I eventually tracked down this abandoned structure on Grove Terrace and snapped a photo.

This February… well, they’ve been busy over the past year. This green house is built where the old shed used to be.

As you can see, it’s no longer an empty or abandoned lot. I dunno if anyone’s living in that green house yet, but it’s certainly more livable than it used to be (heh).

The grown-up in me says, “good! At least the land will be used properly now,” but the rebellious adolescent in me says “awwwww, I never got inside!”

Snowpile

I have no idea why there is a giant heap of snow in Grove Park. Do you? Maybe some kids were playing? Maybe the goal was to build the largest possible mound of snow? I dunno.