Forgetfulness

NEWTOWN, CT — I left my camera at home. I meant to pack it. I should have packed it (although I’m generally loathe to “should” myself): I had opportunity this Thanksgiving weekend to take a few truly beautiful photos of a “traditional” New England Thanksgiving, and I left my camera at home.

Damn.

We spent this year’s Thanksgiving holiday at an in-laws’ house in Madison, CT, about 90 minutes from where I sit at the moment, sucking down coffee and eating a raspberry scone in a Starbucks in Newtown, CT, and the image I composed in my mind — the pre-shot composition — was a picturesque theme worthy of a Norman Rockwell painting.

Oh, well.

Thanksgiving dinner was just about the best I have ever had, truth be told: 34 family members (alright, extended family for me) tucked inside a traditional New England Cape Cod home nearly a hundred years old, eating turkey, stuffing, potatoes, “turnips” (a.k.a. rutabaga, a childhood favorite of mine), pumpkin pie, watching football, drinking beer or wine, talking, laughing, and generally having a great time.

And something to be thankful for in itself. I may not have taken my camera for the visual, but the memory will live on in my mind.

Leave a Reply