Author: barryhassphoto

I don’t think I’ve ever taken a picture that says “Spring!” quite as much as this one.

Spring is really here now.

Although the calendar says it’s Spring, the scrubby border around the field behind my house is still wearing its gray-brown winter colors.

Why is this not a national holiday?

Poem: “Assignment #1: Write a poem about Baseball and God” by Philip E. Burnham, Jr. from Housekeeping: Poems Out of the Ordinary. © Ibbetson Street Press, 2005.

Assignment #1: Write a poem about Baseball and God

And on the ninth day, God
In His infinite playfulness
Grass green grass, sky blue sky,
Separated the infield from the outfield,
Formed a skin of clay,
Assigned bases of safety
On cardinal points of the compass
Circling the mountain of deliverance,
Fashioned a wandering moon
From a horse, a string and a gum tree,
Tempered weapons of ash,
Made gloves from the golden skin of sacrificial bulls,
Set stars alight in the Milky Way,
Divided the descendants of Cain and Abel into contenders,
Declared time out, time in, stepped back,
And thundered over all of creation:
                                       “Play ball!”

Here’s an oldie. While on a business trip in California in 2008, I was out for an early morning walk when I spotted this guy in a bed of bird of paradise planted in front of my hotel.

Thinking about the winter that never came – at least around here.

Late Winter, early spring. Some call it mud season. I call it still life season.

I couldn’t decide which version of this I like better. Opinions?

When photographing farm animals in the past, I have usually shown them as archetypes – props in a bucolic landscape. Here, instead, I try to present them as individuals with unique personalities.

On a cold, gray winter morning, there’s nothing like a glass of OJ. Liquid Sunshine.