(All pics. snapped on 9/05/11)
Here in the U.S., we honor the "economic and social contributions of workers" on the first Monday of every September - by enjoying a day of rest, in order to celebrate a holiday (somewhat ironically) named "Labor Day". I personally, never think too much about the reasons behind this particular holiday - but more that it signifies the unofficial end of my most favorite season (Summer)...and the unfortunate ushering in of Autumn...*sigh*
Ideally on Labor Day, the weather is quintessential summer: all hot and sunny, with azure skies and cottony clouds - the perfect conditions for spending one last day at the pool, before the gates are closed and locked until Memorial Day rolls around at the end of May the following year. Folks convene on or near some body of water, or at backyard barbecues and cookouts - and everyone gets as much as they can out of those last few minutes before bathing suits and flip flops, hand the baton off - to blue jeans and sweatshirts and socks and shoes.
This past Labor Day, was in no way conducive to being spent by the pool, or even outdoors for that matter. It was cool and drizzly and grey, and I'd bet that there were any number of fetes either cancelled altogether, or moved indoors - on account of the unseasonably cool, dreary weather.
Luckily for me though, none of that mattered. I mean, let's face it - I'm not exactly the girl who makes it onto all (or any of) the guest lists for parties thrown around here...and so having made no plans to celebrate with others that day - that also meant that there were no plans for me to break because the weather happened to be shitty.
I was home alone, since my kids always stay with their father on Mondays, and I also had the day off from my "real" job, so...I decided to spend Labor Day, well...laboring....i.e., doing the "work" that I truly love best.
While my camera battery charged, I decided on the setting for the day's shoot, showered, and chose what to wear. Next I fussed with my hair and put on my make-up, and then when my battery was at a full charge, I drove to a neighborhood nearby. I parked and left my my car on a dead-end street, nimbly climbed over electrified fences, tromped across cow fields - and stopped when I finally reached this train bridge and creek.
As I changed out of my t-shirt and shorts, and into the diaphanous, white nighty (while also ducking and dodging to keep out of view of the motorists driving past on the roadway in the distance) - I surveyed my surroundings, while trying to decide just how exactly - to go about staging my shoot. Finding sure footing for the little thrift store table (atop of which my camera and gorillapod stand) - was definitely no easy task...there was simply no solid ground on which to place it. But besides that, slogging through the gunky, gloppy muck that swallowed my feet with each deliberate step that I took - across the bank and through the dark, murky water - took more than a few minutes to get used to. For the sake of my pics. though, I put it out of my mind - despite being sucked down sometimes, practically up to my knees...my feet meeting sharp, hidden mystery objects that littered the mushy creek floor.
After shooting diligently for a good, solid hour - I'd had my fill of the ick factor, and also began to worry that some horrific bacteria might infiltrate my body via the puncture wounds in my feet, and the lacerations on my legs...*shudder*
I wasn't quite ready to call it a day though - and so I packed up my shiz, and retraced my steps - until I reached a much cleaner, clearer stretch of the stream.
By the time I left to finally go home, my body was essentially thrashed. My mind however, was reeling with excitement, and my heart was overflowing with pride and satisfaction. The way I look at it, physical exhaustion, especially when coupled with a few battle wounds sustained while snappin' my pics. - is the very definition of, "It's all in a day's work"...and I feel fortunate in that I can say without a doubt - that I honestly love what I do...