Sanders Meanders

Where Credit Is Due

Clams Casino, Helmrich's Seafood, Williamsport, PA Hand lettered sign, Helmrich’s Seafood, Williamsport, PA

One of the coolest things to happen to me in a while happened to me last week: it seems that the type designer Tobias Frere-Jones was writing an article for his blog on the subject of regional type. The main body of the article is a list he composed with others of photostreams, blogs, personal sites and such, showing off “type in the wild” in a variety of countries. As it so happens, Jean-Francois Porchez, the French type designer, is a follower of mine on Instagram (which is impossibly cool all in itself), and he suggested my feed to Tobias Frere-Jones. The article is here.

Quality Seafood, Helmrich's, Williamsport, PA

These shots, showing off some of the best hand-lettering I’ve seen, are the decorations on the side of Helmrich’s Seafood in Williamsport, PA. I took these in May of 2012 and they remain some of my favorites.

Following Frere-Jones’ lead, it occurred to me that I have a lot of people I’d like to acknowledge. Whereas I am a great believer in happenstance, I have discovered that this crazy thing I do is so much easier when I get some inspiration. Here are a few sites and streams that I always go back to when the well runs dry:

Retro Roadmap: Another impossibly cool thing that as happened since I started this site up a year ago…Beth Lennon (Mod Betty, to us mere mortals) of Retro Roadmap was one of my early supporters and shared an article or two on her Facebook page. Even before I started sharing all this stuff in this form, I was reading her blog and visiting some of the places she had visited. Thanks, Mod Betty, for always inspiring me.

AgilityNut/Roadside Architecture: Debra Jane Seltzer’s site has always been a magnificent source on a variety of cool subjects. Signs, roadside architecture in general, movie theaters…you name it, she’s taken a picture of it. She’s also a dog lover, so she gets my vote right away.

Seth Gaines’ Flickr Stream: It helps to know someone local. Although I’ve never met Seth, it seems our paths cross all the time. I’m not exactly sure where he lives, but I’m amazed at the alarming frequency of pictures we have of the same stuff.

Marc Shur: LA art director and sign enthusiast who has created more sign shots that I wish I had taken than anybody else I know.

Sunsetmeridian on Instagram: Also mentioned in Tobias Frere-Jones article, Sunset and I share an affinity for Old Florida. A terrific follow on Instagram.

Iveseenthesigns on Instagram: A fellow Pennsylvania sign geek, our paths cross all the time on the internet if not in real life.

Dewey Thomas: Awesome, awesome photographer who occasionally takes pictures of signs that seem to be meant specifically to inspire me.

Cinema Treasures: THE source of information on movie theaters, living or dead.

At the Last Minute

Let’s back up a bit. A few months ago, I put out a post called “Tales of Philly Sales,” about a dear departed department store in the city of Binghamton. The response on that particular post has been tremendous, which led me to think about writing a sequel to it, sharing some of the memories that had been shared with me. I decided to use a trip to Binghamton as an opportunity to get a few more sign shots to back up the story.

A few things got in the way. First, our trip to San Antonio yielded much more than I imagined, and so for a months I posted little else. Second, the flu hit us, and I wasn’t upright long enough to sit in front of a computer to type it out. And then, all of a sudden, I knew why it was taking me so long to get this story together.

Early March: The first night I was in town I got in a bit early. Don’t ask me why–maybe I was bored and needed something to do–but I decided to go by Ellis Brothers and take a shot of the sign. I had gotten shots of this sign before. Twice before, in fact, but something compelled me to go by. I snapped off a few, kind of half-wondering what I was going to do with these shots. It was kind of a dull evening, and cold, and the first grouping of shots I got four years ago were vibrant and fantastic.

So I got creative:

I slipped in underneath the sign and used my long zoom lens to get this perspective, and as soon as I previewed it I knew this was the reason I was there. And then again, maybe it wasn’t…

Last week, Ellis Brothers Furniture, one of the oldest businesses in Binghamton, went through a terrible fire. It’s expected that the building will have to come down.

Do I have to mention the Little Voice? Listen to that Little Guy in your head, the one who tells you to do things that no one would care one way or the other whether you shrug them off or not. Ten times out of ten when the Little Guy says to take a picture and I do, I don’t regret it. Chances are, this was a last opportunity to get a shot of this fantastic old sign. I’ll try to keep you updated on this one.

While I was at it that same night, I got this shot of a marvelous set of ghost signs that I had been meaning to get for a while. As you can see, it was still basically winter…

The San Antonio Food and Sign Festival: The Leftovers

As I said before, the weather turned nasty the last few days we were in San Antonio, so there wasn’t a whole lot of photography going on, but there were plenty of pictures I left out of my posts from the first three days just simply because I didn’t have enough room!

This ghost sign was across the street from the Alamo. I still can’t really make out what it was, but the shapes and hints of colors make me believe it must have been quite grand in its day. This was actually the first shot I took that week.

Art Corner, Universal City, TX

We spotted this one on our way through back streets to get the picture of the Randolph Cleaners on Day 2. It was difficult to tell if this place was still open. I love the shape of this sign, and it’s a rare sight to see one of these corrugated signs still standing.

I’m always fascinated by signs that were repurposed, and then the repurposing has, in fact, decayed more than the original. A certain justice that the sign above, around the corner from The Pig Stand in San Antonio, has shed its slapped-on skin in favor of its original metal. We passed by this on Day One, and I got this single shot from a moving car.

Threadgill’s, Austin, TX

Threadgill’s is actually from 1981, but the signs look considerably older. It’s one of many legendary Austin music locations. We came upon it during our long trek through the Austin streets on Day 3.

Miller Blueprint Co, Austin, TX

This was actually the first shot I took on Day 3, not far from where we parked. When I saw this sign, I knew it was going to be a good day. Pity we didn’t get a chance to see it lit up.

Soho Lounge, Austin, TX

This would be how you repurpose a sign. My guess is, they took the existing sign and made it their own, but who knows? It preserves the past and makes it something new, and you’ve got to admire that.

Another dessert from La Condesa in Austin. Day 3.

And some more food. On our fourth day we went up to the town of Gruene, which is known for its long-standing dance hall. Before that, however, Hannah made us this French toast casserole with bacon that was nothing short of perfection.

The Gruene Dance Hall was every bit of what I expected and more, from the creaky wood floor to the pot-bellied stoves warming the patrons chilled by the (gasp!) 60 degree temperatures that day.

Our genial hosts…
…and us… Somebody must have said something funny…

The San Antonio Food and Sign Festival, Day 3: Austin Bound

Here’s what’s great about my sister-in-law Hannah: on the day that we had planned to make the drive up to Austin, she couldn’t sleep. So, instead of doing as the rest of us would do and lay around in bed waiting for something drowsy to happen, she got up and started surfing around the internet for places to eat in Austin. What she discovered was La Condesa, a Modern Mexican place nominated by the James Beard Foundation for Best New Restaurant. As we struggle down to breakfast she tells us this, describes the menu, and suddenly I’m counting the hours until lunch.

But first, Austin itself.

Let me say this: I don’t like the heat. I grew up in a city that gets 80-plus inches of snow a year. I lived in Chattanooga and that was too hot for me. We met several people in Chattanooga who moved from Texas to escape the heat. I HATE heat. So bear this in mind when I say this: Austin is totally worth the heat.

Obligatory Looking-Up-at-the-Top-of-the-Dome Shot

Now, of course, Austin has so many signs worth photographing that I couldn’t count them all. In fact, I had to give some a pass just because there just wasn’t time. The other unfortunate thing about this particular trip was the fact that it was pretty overcast much of the day. We walked the streets and I wandered off to gather all the best signs in.

Two jewelers sit across from each other on Congress Avenue, Kruger’s (above) and Joe Koen & Son (below) and both have been around forever, Kruger’s since 1906 and Koen, as you can see, since 1884. Kruger’s has obviously kept their signs up better, but they’re both marvelous in their own right. And I love a sign that has a working clock in it. Now that I look at it, it took me about 15 minutes to walk from one to the other. (We stopped at the Starbuck’s)

State Theater, Austin, TX

The Proverbial Taco Truck that I Didn’t Fall Off of (Moving Car Shot)

And, of course, the infamous Austin Motel shot. I think they have a good sense of humor about the shape of their sign. I would think you would have to.

Far Out.

Finally the hour came to be at La Condesa, and it did not disappoint in the least. In fact, it exceeded my expectations. I had the Cubanita, which looks promising, but let me tell you, it tastes even better than it looks.

We felt the need for dessert afterward, and that was a good decision. This is the Boca Negra, a flourless chocolate cake with ancho, chile de arbol and carmelized bananas. I am becoming a fan of chocolate and chili together:

One of my goals in coming to Austin was to go to Roadhouse Relics, and unfortunately there were two things wrong. First, the proprietor, Todd Sanders (no relation) was in New York that weekend. Second, there was a wedding about to shoot pictures in their back yard. It was time to get creative. I stuck my K-5 in Live View, held it up as high as I could get it, and took a few shots over the fence.

How many cool things do you count?

While I was at it, I went across the street, where a few more neon signs hung out. This Googie bit of fun for Freddie’s Place is still active:

Whereas Jovita’s, right next door, was out of commission. I recently found out that in 2012 the owner and several people were arrested for heroin trafficking among other charges. The location remains unoccupied.

This, however, remains open, and is the center of all things I love.

We headed back to San Antonio. The sign portion of the Food and Sign Festival effectively ended due to poor weather the next few days, but the food continued to be good and plentiful. We don’t know if we’ll manage to get back before Dan is stationed somewhere else, but we were so thankful for the experience. Travel is so good for the soul in so many ways, and helps us appreciate not only the places we visit, but the places where we live.

The San Antonio Food and Sign Festival, Day 2

We woke up on our second day in San Antonio to homemade granola and Cafe de Olla. This was going to be a day of homemade food, and when you consider our hostess’ prowess in the kitchen, restaurants could stand to take a break for a day. Hannah works at Central Market in San Antonio, so we’d be going there for some lunch and to gather in the ingredients needed for dinner. Along the way, to placate my sign addiction, we’d hit a few high spots.

Before that, though, Hannah took us over to Randolph, where Dan is technically stationed while he is doing his residency. On the way over, I spotted something poking out of the buildings across the street from the base, and after we had taken a drive through the facility, I saw that I had not misjudged what I had seen at a distance. It was the sign for Randolph Laundry & Cleaners, a neon sign on top of the building.

Happy circumstance: no one had any idea it was there. If you’ll notice, I got photobombed by a bird up at the top near the “R”. It was an angry bird.

Very angry bird…

So rather than face the wrath of this bird, we decided to go toward Central Market. Along the way, though, Hannah had a sign location in mind for me:

Bun-N-Barrel has been around since 1950, and it’s definitely a testament to the kind of roadside architecture we’ve come to know and love from that era. I indulge myself for a few minutes, even sneaking out to the median of Austin Highway to get the following shot:

And then, the Coca-Cola sign along the side. I really didn’t expect to see palm trees in San Antonio, but they really add to this shot:

We pressed on and stopped at Central Market for supplies. For those of you Yankees like me who have never been to a Central Market, it’s as if Trader Joe’s and Wegmans had a baby. Chances are, if it’s not there, you probably didn’t need it. I munched on a wild mushroom and goat cheese quesadilla for lunch as we went through aisle after aisle of marvelous food that we consider stuffing into our carry-ons. We settle on the Juan Diaz Cafe de Olla we had at breakfast. No regrets. I may order some online.

Across the street is the remains of the Broadway Theater. The Broadway opened in 1939 and was converted into a bank, then into apartments. Happily, the vertical sign has remained in terrific shape:

In the meantime, my research had led me to the Ranch Motel, which was further up Broadway. Fortunately, Hannah wanted to go by the Half Price Books that is just up the street, so it looked like a perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone:

Killer arrow!

And then on to the food portion of the program. Hannah decided on a Spanish theme for the evening, so she made a Spanish tortilla and a concoction with garbanzos and chorizo, two of my favorite ingredients:

You know it’s getting serious when the blow torch comes out… Chef Hannah prepares fideua.

And for dessert: fig and goat cheese ice cream. Yes, you heard right. I could eat a gallon of this right now.

Hannah’s friend Emily came over for the feast. She’s from Chattanooga and we lived in Chattanooga for ten years so we had a great talk over great food.

The San Antonio Food and Sign Festival, Day One

For a number of years, Laura’s sister, the esteemed Chef Hannah, has been living in San Antonio with her husband, the esteemed Dr. Dan. We’ve been meaning to go down there to see them since they married and moved there in 2010, but doing so would have meant a couple of things: a) that we would have to get on a plane, and b) that we would have to arrive at such a time when the weather was not 145 degrees. Not that either of us has a fear of flying, but that at least one of us has a dislike of airports. And the heat is something neither of us enjoy. Fortunately, San Antonio is not yet brutal in March, and having endured this past winter in the Northeast, even if it was 145 degrees in San Antonio, it would have been welcome. So off on a plane we went.

Three weeks earlier, this phone conversation took place between the four of us on speaker phone:

Laura: We’re so looking forward to coming!
Hannah: Great! And I don’t want to say that everything we’re going to do revolves around food…
Dan: …but it does.

And so, to vindicate herself and to do the admittedly “touristy” thing, our first day we went down to the Alamo. Now, if you’re like me, and have spent your days relatively Alamo-free, and you come in contact with another person who is experienced in the care and feeding of Alamoes, they will no doubt tell you that it is smaller than you would think. As a matter of fact, mention San Antonio in a crowded room and you are more than likely to hear the words “Alamo” and “smaller than you would think” from at least 20% of those present. At least, this is my experience.

We parked in a garage and on our way toward our Alamo-gawking activities, the sign festival began. I spotted two of them on the corner: one from Casa Rio, one of the older Mexican restaurants in town, and a neat perhaps-old but perhaps-not Parking garage sign:

I snapped off this quickly and we turned the corner toward tourist country. Despite the fact that it was a Thursday morning, the fellow tourists were out in force. We made our way over, and, true to my nature as a tourist in this strange and foreign land, got the Alamo shot:

Smaller than you’d think

We wander around the grounds, and perhaps it’s only because several people had told me the same thing, that it was smaller than I would think, that it appeared considerably larger than I was led to believe. Towards the back, I look up and see something that more than catches my attention. The Crockett Hotel, which sits across the road from the Alamo, has a large neon sign on its top, and it’s obviously been there for years.

It took a few shots, but I finally got the one I was looking for. So far, I had gotten a few signs and I wasn’t even really looking. It made me optimistic for what the next few days would hold.

We did the Riverwalk thing, like any good tourist. Hannah got us tickets for the boat ride, and we got to see the sights from the river, which was still green from St. Patrick’s Day. While I was at it, I swiped another shot of Casa Rio from down below:

And then on to the food. Hannah had heard good things about The Luxury, an outdoor eatery along the Riverwalk. What I didn’t know is that, although the place was new, their neon sign was nod to the great old ones. What I also didn’t know was how good the fries were. This was the perfect confluence of food and sign.

First, the sign, and then…

I had the pulled pork (pictured right) and a heaping helping of fries. The sauce on the fries was a combo of ketchup, chopped onion, and what seemed to be an aioli made by particularly contented angels. What you see above disappeared with startling quickness.

We continued on our way, toward where we would eventually eat that night. The Riverwalk was closed for a brief portion, causing us to detour up and across a bridge, and when we did so, I spotted this sign, for the Samuels Glass Company.

The sign is meant to be viewed from I-35, so it wasn’t the easiest shot ever. The above was probably the best of the bunch, and although I got it from many angles, none of them came out particularly great. Slightly disappointed, we moved on.

The one shot I knew I wanted was a “Coffee Shop” sign that was attached to Mary Ann’s Pig Stand, which was not far off. When we had ceased our Riverwalking, we returned to Hannah’s vehicle and proceeded to that particular sign. For the first time all day, the sun and everything else seemed to be in my favor. This one was worth the price of admission:

The March sun was getting hot. Well, hot for a poor old pasty New York boy, anyway, so it was to rest up before dinner. On the way, Hannah suggested the Big Red sign along the highway. It took some doing, but we finally figured out the best way to get to it. It involved me hanging halfway out the window like a happy Golden Retriever, shooting rapid-fire. The last shot was the best. I’m a sucker for a lot of white space, and this provided the goods:

That night for dinner, we went to The Granary, just up from the campus of the Culinary Institute of America. The building was the private home of the Chief Cooper at the nearby Pearl Brewery. I’m a big fan of any restaurant that’s in a building that wasn’t originally intended to be a restaurant, so they had me right away, before I had even eaten anything.

This place is Hannah and Dan’s favorite and it was very, very easy to see why. I had the Pork Shank, a marvelous fall-off-the-bone concoction with lentils, preserved lemon, and apricot. Regrettably, I ate it too quickly for it to be photographed, but in the midst of this feeding frenzy, I managed to snap a shot of Laura’s dish, the Beef Clod (beef topped with a coffee quinoa crunch) before it, too, was ransacked beyond all recognition. I leave you with this.

The San Antonio Food and Sign Festival, Day 2

The San Antonio Food and Sign Festival, Day 3: Austin Bound

The San Antonio Food and Sign Festival: The Leftovers

Surrounded by Reality

From time to time I find myself in the confines of Ithaca, New York, that stalwart college town at the foot of Cayuga Lake. Ithaca, for those of you who have not had the pleasure, is a treasure trove of natural beauty laced with all the Bohemian atmosphere the best of college atmosphere can harbor. While many of the cities in the area have been decimated by the loss of industry, Ithaca remains unaffected, and has perhaps even grown over the years. All of this was encapsulated by a bumper sticker I once saw on a car at the Farmer’s Market in Ithaca one day, which read: “Ten Square Miles, Surrounded by Reality*.”

Cayuga Lake At the same level as Cayuga’s Waters…

I took the above picture five years ago when Laura and I were driving around and found ourselves in Sherman Park. We had stopped in a cool used book store along the way that was part catacombs, part library, stopped here for a photo op, and ended up at Buttermilk Falls. Beautiful weather for May, sunny and in the sixties. A fantastic day, and one we’ll always remember. But during my last trip to Ithaca, considering I was by myself and it was freezing cold and I didn’t have time to stop and look at used books, I had other matters on my mind: namely, the neon chicken known as Chanticleer.

Chanticleer is a bar in the center of town well known to generations of Cornell and Ithaca College students, and above its metal overhang stands the proud neon rooster. Well, actually, two roosters: one you can see from State Street and another you can see from Cayuga Street.

This was my immediate goal, but i had a secondary one, the State Theater just up the street. The State opened up in 1928 but closed in the 80s. It stayed closed for nearly twenty years, despite community efforts to revive it, and at one point was condemned, but finally, in 2001, the State reopened. I had driven past this section during a trip two years ago, but not having the time to get out with my camera, I didn’t realize that it was possible to swipe a shot of both at the same time. It wasn’t the ideal time of day for this shot, but I stood at the side of the commons on top of a snow bank and fired away:

Bam!

Despite the cold of that day, I snapped away until my fingers became slightly numb. These two had been on my list for quite some time, and I was going to make the most out of crossing them off…

I didn’t really know the State’s full story at the time I took these, but if I had, I probably would have kept on with my K-5 in the cold until my fingers fell off. It’s so good to hear the story of an old classic restored. Bravo to all the people whose efforts saved the State.

*Yes, people of Madison, Wisconsin…I realize that it was your joke previously and that it was “77 Square Miles, Surrounded by Reality,” but it applies to Ithaca just as much as Madison… Let’s agree to share the distinction.

As a side note, on my way back through the wilds of Tompkins and Tioga counties, I spotted a shed along the side of the road that I found so photogenic that I couldn’t help but share. These boards, desperately trying to hold up something that can’t stand on its own…there’s a metaphor…

Different Signs, Different Seasons

During one summer day last year, I found myself with a bit of time, a bit of hunger, and proximity to New Jersey. I also had my camera with me, and a sign on my New Jersey to-do list. It all came together in the form of Hot Dog Johnny’s in Buttzville, New Jersey, along US 46. It was a gorgeous day, and Hot Dog Johnny’s is located in a cool spot along the river. The place was packed, despite the fact that it was mid-afternoon, and I had to wait in line for a couple of dogs.

They cook their hot dogs in the deep-fry style, which seems to be a New Jersey thing, and it is a lovely thing. Rutt’s Hut in Clifton was my first introduction to this delicious culinary mutation, so that particular location holds a special place in my heart (and perhaps, my arteries). Overall, my trip to Hot Dog Johnny was terrific. It was only sullied by the fact that I had another place on my list, Hunter’s Lodge, a motel also on Route 46, and I didn’t have the time to hit both.

A few weeks ago, I had the chance to go again, and this time, I was all about Hunter’s Lodge, and it was my hope that the cover of snow that has blanketed the Northeast this winter would add to the photographs, just as the greenery and sun brightened my Hot Dog Johnny shots.

Hunter's Lodge, Delaware, NJ

It was a little farther up 46 than I expected, and it was on the other side of the road, but from a distance I could see it was magnificent. I could also see that the driveway was mostly halfway plowed, and that there was nowhere else to stop and get a shot. On top of that, the best shot I could get meant a stroll into a snow-covered field, and, stupid man that I am, I had not brought my boots. But I bit the bullet, crunched through the icy layers, and got the shot above.

Again, I think I hit this at the right time. The winter sun adds an element to this I really like. Just in case, though, I may stop back when the snow melts…provided that ever happens.

At First You Don’t Succeed

Tuesday ended up being a very interesting day. I had planned to take Laura in to work on my way, but she remembered she had a hair appointment north of town and it made more sense to take both cars. Then, on Tuesday morning, when we saw all the accidents that were going on in Allentown that morning due to the snow and ice on US 22, it suddenly became more sensible for us to revert to our original plan. So I drove her in, avoided all manner of accidents. But it left me waiting in the salon for an hour and a half that night.

Armed with the copy of Killing Floor by Lee Child, I was prepared to wait things out if it took all winter. I sunk into a zebra-stripe chair and dove in to my book. People came and went. The sun set. No snow was falling, but it was on its way that night. My mind wandered: could I go anywhere? Normally I’d find a sign to photograph, but I had pretty much tapped out the north end of the Lehigh Valley. Except…

Those of you who follow this blog will know that there is one sign I have been dying to get all lit up: the Roxy in Northampton. I’ve chronicled my woes surrounding this location before. I’m always there at the wrong time. Just a few weeks earlier, I spun by there again, only to be at least an hour and a half early. I determined that they must turn on all the lights just before showtime. I checked my phone. They were showing Frozen at 7. I looked at the clock. Quarter after six.

I went back to where they were wrestling Laura’s hair into submission and asked how long it was going to take. 45 minutes. Just enough time to see if I’m right. I jumped in the car and made my way over to Northampton.

Normally I’m a firm believer in neon magic hour, but I’ve been thwarted by this sign so often I was just willing to give it a shot. I bounced along the somewhat-plowed streets of Ironton, PA and eventually made it to my target at 6:30. Dark.

I yanked my book out of the back seat. This time, I was going to stay. I had just enough to read about Reacher fooling two assassins on his trail and shooting them in the back, when suddenly, a light appeared in my rear view mirror.

Roxy Theater in Northampton, PA I nearly cried.

Roxy Theater, Northampton, PA

I bounced around for about ten minutes, hitting it from all angles, until I realized that I had to go back and pick Laura up. She texted me when they were at the blow-dry portion of the program and I headed back into the car to go back and pick her up. So, cross this one off the list. At last.

Hotel Parking, Orefield, PA

A bit of sad news to report, although not unexpected. On our way to Laura’s hair appointment, we noticed the above sign had gone missing in the previous few months. The hotel was long since gone, so this was hardly shocking, but it will be missed.

What Gets You Through the Winter

It was cold today, which officially makes the winter redundant. The Northeast has been brutal this year, with wind chills in to the negative degrees. I haven’t been as active as I would have liked in the last two months, due to one thing or another, but somehow when I do manage to find a good sign to shoot, I manage to choose the absolute coldest of cold days. Earlier on in January, I got shots of the Kwik Shoppe in Shoemakersville. Beautiful sunshine, wind chills below freezing. The needle didn’t hit double digits (that’s Farenheit, metric system fans) until I got back home. It was so cold during this shoot, I was trying, with varying success, to hit the shutter button on my K-5 with my heavy winter gloves.

Oh, was this a cold, cold day…

But I couldn’t argue with the results. There’s something about the winter sun that is noticeable in photographs. A harshness, hyper-contrast. Yesterday was such a day. Not a cloud in the sky, brutal sun, and the freezing point of the extremity of a female occultist’s mammary gland.

Check the picture below. I was just starting to take shots of signs in the summer of 2010 when I came across Schmoyer’s Dry Cleaners in the Mountainville area of Allentown. The building, I could tell, was closed, and in my mind I had to get a shot of it before the sign came down for good.

Nearly four years later and the sign still stands, despite the fact that the Dry Cleaners is all boarded up. I passed by a few days ago and noticed the tree that is in the above picture was no longer there. I figured it would be a good opportunity to get the other side of the sign, which is just as rusty and full of lovely neon bullet holes. And I also wanted to see what difference the winter sun made.

Of course, no one wants to go out into the cold, but I love taking shots that you don’t normally get. Different weather conditions, lighting scenarios, you name it. And I wanted to see if I could get the other side of Schmoyer’s, with the sun on it.

I headed down the hill on PA 145 and from a distance I could see it was going to be a challenge. There was still part of a tree obscuring that side, and the early afternoon sun was projecting shadows of that tree on to the sign. I parked and took a few shots, but I could tell this wasn’t going to be the result I wanted.

So, not wanting to admit defeat, I stepped through the snow to the other side. The winter sun was blasting away in vain against the cold, right behind the tree, imposing itself into my shot. I made the best of it and worked with it and not against it. I popped the flash on to augment the light on the face of the sign, and the results here were much better:

And for good measure, I tried it out in black and white, getting the bloom of the sun:

There’s a part of me that wants to hole up in the winter, but I see these things and I think, why? There’s so much that can be done out there, even though it’s difficult, even though the winds blow, even though the roads are still unplowed (you feeling me, Allentown?). And although the nasty bite of winter does its worst, it can’t stop the summer from coming. In the midst of all this, we press on. The longer we press on, the greater the chance that we capture something beautiful.