Friday, July 19, 2013

The lake.

July 18, Conneaut.

Lake Erie at our feet, the circus is in Conneaut again, one of those unassuming little Ohio lakeshore trail towns, a place we haven't played since 2009 and that I remember fondly not only for the immense beach, Dylan running on the boardwalk toward the water, I behind pushing the double stroller with baby Nicolas in it, but also for the joy I had in taking pictures of circus people on the beach, everybody was there it seemed, after the shows so it must have been a week end, and here we are again three years later and this time no wild Photoshop sunset but the coolness of the water and the kids having fun and the teens getting their shoulders burned, such a good time again.
Three years ago it was also very hot, and I remember Cathy Poema's face covered with shiny tiny beads of sweat like jewels, the picture I took of her then, and again today the intense heat but it is downplayed by a steady breeze off the lake, and we got lucky, too, for our trailer sits under two giant trees whose canopy is keeping us in the shade.
I couldn't stop taking pictures today again, too. It  must be something about the beauty of this park, or the view of the lake from the trailer, or the playground right by the backstage entrance, or the way the circus is parked in a circle around the tent, the chance that makes a certain place what it is, the arrangement of houses on a street, the layout of a town, a scenery around a bend in the road, and our moving village no less beautiful sometimes for its transience.

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