Eye on the Past

Eye on the Past

I hear the rapid shutter sound
As I slowly ease my way ’round
The shining beauties on the lawn
A grand display of classic cars
So pristine, perfect, free from mars
Some nearly old as auto’s dawn
The click, click, click… my camera’s sign
Recording beauty by design
Reminding me of days long gone

 

I enjoy finding and capturing lines and angles at classic car shows. They take me back to the mid-fifties, when my father would brag that his little boy could name any make, model and year of car. Yes, there were far fewer models back them, but there are numerous long gone makes of cars from the twenties and thirties that were still on the road at the time. From the nineteen-eighties on, there seemed to be far fewer memorable car designs (although there seems to be a bit of a renaissance in the past few years), so I have had less motivation to keep track of such things. Although I hear the shutter sound much more frequently these days, with the luxury of multiple shots in digital format, that sound still takes me back to the seventies, when I my interest in photography was born.

My reply to “Click, click, click….” from hbhatnagar’s Two Phrase Story #34 sent me off in this direction.

This is my second reply to Jane Dougherty’s Poetry Challenge #23: Nove Otto.
Nove otto ~ nine lines, each having eight syllables in four beats, rhyme pattern aabccbddb
My first reply was Thoughts of Those Who Will Not See This Full Moon

 

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11 thoughts on “Eye on the Past

    • My earliest memory of riding in a car was at three years old, in what my mother and father called “The Gold Bomb,” a 1950 Plymouth. It broke my father’s heart when, in 1958, my uncle wrecked his 1955 Buick, just weeks after my father had it painted two-tone / peach and green.

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      • Thanks. I thought it was a rear view mirror. I don’t remember headlights of this type. The first car I remember was a 1934 Chevy my daddy owned. Same year I was born. Neither the car nor I was new at the time daddy owned it. The first new car he bought was a 1945, just after production began again after the war. I believe I recall right; we do have some pictures that have helped me remember.

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  1. Pingback: Poetry challenge Nove Otto: the entries – Jane Dougherty Writes

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