It's that time of the year again when all the graying, tangled, woodsy looking mess of dead- looking vines are springing back to life. Sometimes known as "the vine that ate the South," Kudzu is once more on the rampage.
The Japanese brought us this gift that keeps on giving back in 1876 when they introduced it at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition. It was promoted as a forage crop and ornamental plant and from 1935 to the early 1950s the Soil Conservation Service encouraged farmers in the southeastern U.S. to plant it in order to control soil erosion. Kudzu is high in protein and minerals and provides an enjoyable meal for grazing animals. It has also been used to make tea, baskets, soap, jellies and lotions, and there are possible medicinal uses for Kudzu.
However, most of us in the South view this unruly and tenacious plant as a less than welcome guest that threatens to overtake any immoveable object in its path. Untold hours have been spent pulling, hacking, cutting and using weed killers to eridicate this marauding pest while year after year despite man's endeavors, Kudzu continues on the rampage.
Inspiration can come from the most unexpected sources and several years ago while I was out walking the dog, I glanced across the street to notice the Kudzu as it seemed to creep upward and outward, lush and green, before my very eyes. Suddenly that wretched plant was transformed as I saw it as a metaphor for determination and tenacity. It became for me a symbol for renewal and the importance of persisting despite setbacks and disappointments that can lead to feelings of hopelessness and despair. Because it comes back again and again, impervious to all efforts to kill it off, it can remind us that if we just "hang in there" we too can come back again and again and bloom where we are planted if we keep our eyes on the Kudzu and are determined and persistant in our effort.

There was a welcome break in the weather today. A high of 65 was predicted for the day so I grabbed my Nikon and headed for the zoo this morning. I always have mixed emotions when I go to the zoo.
The animals are well-taken care of and they are safe but I feel sorry for them that they are captive, living their lives behind walls and fences and not free to roam and enjoy life in their natural habitat. They've traded safety for security. Well, not really because they had no choice in the matter. They were either captured or born into captivity.
There are people who choose captivity over freedom in marriages and relationships that trap them just as effectively as the animal's cages and walls. Oftentimes when I drive through neighborhoods with expensive homes, I wonder how many of the people living in those places are happy and how many of them are miserable but have chosen the trappings of wealth and material security over freedom and happiness.
The zoo animals have no choice. They live out their lives in boredom; one day following the other in endless succession until they die. It's very sad.
People who choose to trade their freedom for wealth and security do have a choice and maybe they are to be pitied most of all.

This is Maggie. She is my neurotic, obsessive-compulsive, ultra-possessive, massively destructive, socially maladusted miniature daschund. She does have one socially redeeming virtue, if you could call it that. She is a very good bed buddy. She climbs under the covers and sleeps curled up next to me all night long.

"There are some good things to be said about walking. Not many, but some. Walking takes longer, for example, than any other known form of locomotion except crawling. Thus it stretches time and prolongs life. Life is already too short to waste on speed. I have a friend who's always in a hurry; he never gets anywhere. Walking makes the world much bigger and thus more interesting. You have time to observe the details. The utopian technologists foresee a future for us in which distance is annihilated and anyone can transport himself anywhere, instantly. Big deal, Buckminster. To be everywhere at once is to be nowhere forever, if you ask me" ~ Edward Abbey, from The Journey Home (1991)
Found this quote on Exposure Lattitudes newsletter I received today. Photowalking fits with street photography, both require slowing down, observation and stepping back from the rush in order to savor the moment.

Okay, I tried to post one more photo and it didn't take without another message. So here goes again. Perhaps I will soon learn how to use this properly but right now I am still a bit confused. I usually have to do things wrong a few times before I finally figure how to do them the right way. Blogging is obviously no exception. Don't know how the guy in this photo can see to ride his motorcycle.

I decided to go out today and do some street photography. Spent hours last night reading message boards about the apprehension and down right fear so many photographers have when it comes to doing street photography (candid shots). The suggestion was made over and over again to just bite the bullet and get out there and do it. So, okay, I figured I would do it and I did!

It was a cold and overcast day and I went to Five Points South where most of the "strange" congregate.

I parked myself out front of Star Bucks because there were tables and chairs and more people walking up and down the street there than any other place in the vacinity. I shot with my Nikon D80 with 18-55 mm lens and I also brought my Canon A470 point and shoot. Used both cameras. Took some shots inside the Original Pancake House with the Canon with the flash turned off. I figured it was more unobtrusive then holding the big Nikon up and looking through the view finder.

Am going to post of few of my first candids done today on here.