Hello from Florence, Mississippi
Hello from Florence, Mississippi
I,m glad to find this forum. I look forward to reading others views about photographic skills and advice on equipment. C. W.
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Re: Hello from Florence, Mississippi
Welcome! Closest I've been to Mississippi is New Orleans. Enjoyed it there but am unable to comment on your part of the world. This is a great forum for participation and browsing, so enjoy!
Tony
Be you ever so high, the law is above you. Lord Denning
Be you ever so high, the law is above you. Lord Denning
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Re: Hello from Florence, Mississippi
And a welcome from me too
Re: Hello from Florence, Mississippi
Thanks for the welcome. I am just south of Jackson, Ms. the state capital. New Orleans is quite close less than 3 hours drive. The old river towns of Vicksburg and Natchez are really photo heaven for this area. The Mississippi delta is also a place for photography. Beautiful sunsets, tremendous wealth, and poverty like no other place in this country. A trip up old highway 61 from Vicksburg to Memphis Tennessee is a trip to be experienced sometime. Highway 61 is known to be the birthplace of Blues music. I look forward to reading about some of the great places for photography in your part of the world. C. W.
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Re: Hello from Florence, Mississippi
Natchez-under-Hill - been there, and even got it written into a song I have never finished called 'Lucky Mary' ('From Natchez-under-Hill, to the streets of Storyville...' - you'll know what sort of lady the song is about!). Lovely town, we did not do the gambling bit on the river but found a pleasant old hotel, explored the antiques and crafts shops, and took a horse and trap ride; photographed the old station and the commercial buildings, abandoned long ago. Took the old trail north-east for a couple of hours, turned back through the plantation roads, found deserted burned-out antebellum plantation. Our digital camera then was a Minolta F404 (?) and most of my shooting was on a Konica Hexar rangefinder, using new Konica Minolta films.
Later on, closer to New Orleans, we were on the road when a historic plantation house caught fire. We heard the news on the radio and we could see the smoke rising. In New Orleans, we stayed in the 'pink guest house' which was pretty famous, run by two gay guys with a big family of cats - about the cleanest nicest place we've stayed. I took my small guitar into Jackson Square 11pm one night, and we joined the little group of dossers and buskers outside the cathedral. We had our cameras, but I would never even think of asking to take photos. Shirley disappeared into the side streets with an oil engineer who was staying there, and had made friends with the street folk, to get some beers. I kept his guitar so we knew she was safe We sat and shared the beers and some cigarettes and played some music for an hour; there was a tall mulatto guy from Puerto Rico, classically trained to orchestral standard on flute, sleeping rough in NO because he had no job - making plenty busking, but saving it until the weather changed, happy to sleep outdoors while it was warm with no rain. He was very handsome and well-spoken, and I felt sure that Shirley was on the verge of deciding to sleep rough in New Orleans...
When the cathedral bell chimed midnight, these street guys - even a wino hobo playing harmonica - cleaned up the whole area. They picked up every scrap of litter, shook hands, thanked us for our company/beer and the music, and went their ways leaving the place perfect.
And this was a city where we had been told not to walk out alone at night. This was five years ago, before Katrina, and I would worry now about what might have changed. We found the whole deep south very friendly and our policy of just turning up in a car and looking for interesting B&true got us into some wonderful locations including two nights in a wooden cabin (Uncle Tom's variety) in the grounds of a house in Washington, LA. Shirley also got to handle a family of baby raccoons rescued from tree felling on a historic plantation estate, thanks to a friendly young woman warden. They may be vermin but they are very cute.
Robert Johnson died 70 years ago last week. I'm sure we'll visit the Delta and the Mississippi again.
David
Later on, closer to New Orleans, we were on the road when a historic plantation house caught fire. We heard the news on the radio and we could see the smoke rising. In New Orleans, we stayed in the 'pink guest house' which was pretty famous, run by two gay guys with a big family of cats - about the cleanest nicest place we've stayed. I took my small guitar into Jackson Square 11pm one night, and we joined the little group of dossers and buskers outside the cathedral. We had our cameras, but I would never even think of asking to take photos. Shirley disappeared into the side streets with an oil engineer who was staying there, and had made friends with the street folk, to get some beers. I kept his guitar so we knew she was safe We sat and shared the beers and some cigarettes and played some music for an hour; there was a tall mulatto guy from Puerto Rico, classically trained to orchestral standard on flute, sleeping rough in NO because he had no job - making plenty busking, but saving it until the weather changed, happy to sleep outdoors while it was warm with no rain. He was very handsome and well-spoken, and I felt sure that Shirley was on the verge of deciding to sleep rough in New Orleans...
When the cathedral bell chimed midnight, these street guys - even a wino hobo playing harmonica - cleaned up the whole area. They picked up every scrap of litter, shook hands, thanked us for our company/beer and the music, and went their ways leaving the place perfect.
And this was a city where we had been told not to walk out alone at night. This was five years ago, before Katrina, and I would worry now about what might have changed. We found the whole deep south very friendly and our policy of just turning up in a car and looking for interesting B&true got us into some wonderful locations including two nights in a wooden cabin (Uncle Tom's variety) in the grounds of a house in Washington, LA. Shirley also got to handle a family of baby raccoons rescued from tree felling on a historic plantation estate, thanks to a friendly young woman warden. They may be vermin but they are very cute.
Robert Johnson died 70 years ago last week. I'm sure we'll visit the Delta and the Mississippi again.
David
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