TOP: December 2002 // Nikon FM2n, Nikkor 50 f/1.4, Fuji Provia 100
ABOVE: February 2023 // Nikon D700, Nikkor 85 f/1.8
ABOVE: February 2023 // Nikon D700, Nikkor 85 f/1.8
The backyard basketball goal at my late grandma's house was erected in the 1950s or early ’60s to keep up with my uncle's growing hoop skills. I documented the family icon during a final tour of the house before it was sold after her death.
I knew it would be the final time I saw my maple, a tree planted in my honor the week I was born. Its sinewy branches towered behind the backboard that day—35 years of branching—while the crown of a maple planted for my brother reaches for the rim.
I'm sure the goal came down long ago. I wish I had thought to keep the backboard and rim then, as I did with the steel mailbox out front. It would have made a great piece in my uncle's home court, at the very least.
I hope our trees are still there, but I don't want to drive by to find out. Returning years later to a place that's sacred is always bound to disappoint. I've been crushed too many times to count, sentimental sap that I am.
The shadowy shot might seem like a miss, but it's also sacred ground. That court is one of the initial places I wandered on assignment for my first photography class 23 years ago. All the photos I had taken before then were point-and-shoot guesses without any formal training or understanding. On that court that day, shadows became graphical and color was everywhere, even in concrete. It's only right that I revisited to pay homage to those magical first clicks.
