uncommons

Once was a parking lot, photographs by Erik M. Lunsford

I’ve always had a strange compulsive desire to collect sea shells. When I lived in Florida, I scoured the beaches daily for something new. I went after thunderstorms, hurricanes, tropical storms, etc, to see what washed up on shore. It was hard because the east coast of Florida is rather shell-less. The shell collectors dream award goes to the Gulf coast of Florida for its beautiful varieties.  When I found a shell I liked, it was bagged and the search continued. A second, a third, a whole bag full; it didn’t matter. I wanted more and more. Had I continued to live longer down there my house would have turned into some eccentric shell-lady house full of shell decorations. Shell lamps, shell drink coasters (have those), shells in glass jars (have that too), shell-framed mirrors, shoes with shells tied on them, etc, etc.

The same goes for fall foliage photos. I drank the Fall Kool-Aid last week (see previous post on the tree farm) and since then I’m on the same compulsive kick like the shell addiction. If it’s a drizzly and cloudy day with mounds and ground covers of leaves, I want to be there shooting it and possibly jumping into it as well. Call them cliche they are and boring, it’s something I can’t control. Just look down, see what I mean?

Summer & Fall meet, Jefferson Barracks Park, St. Louis, Missouri.

Remnants on a  car hood, St. Louis, Missouri

Red on blue building, south St. Louis City, Missouri.

Rainbow of color, downtown St. Louis, Missouri.