Rana Banerjee Photography Blog

This great old door with its fake flowers were also shot during my walk with young Mr. Russell.

The river, so busy with boats, and with the tide streaming in, still looks peaceful and calm just after the sun has set. The lights of the town turn the sky pink above them, as the boats bob slowly against the quickly darkening sky. I especially love the red reflection from the light on top of the bridge as it twinkles against the water.

Fishing crates all stacked up. I would assume to carry fish that the fisherfolk have caught. Taken on a wonderful walk with the young Mr. Russell, one the last we have before he heads north, and I head west.

Ginger in a hoodie, with Joe, Tai, Drew, Phoenix, Mark, and Kirk walking off into the distance, the day after New Years, in Delaware. Very pretty, and very empty.

Rich people live here, but not very often. Going to a beach community in Delaware in the dead of winter was quite the experience. So many giant houses, bigger than most people’s normal houses, and almost all empty. Tens of thousands of square feet, not being used for nine months out of the year. I wonder if we could put people who don’t have, or have just lost their houses into these houses. That way the space wouldn’t go to waste. But I don’t think society works that way. I don’t think the residents would want the “underclass” traipsing though their meticulously maintained properties.

On a very sad day, I felt the need to go outside, to seek out my reminder that there is beauty in the world, in each and every corner the sunlight creating patterns, at play with the world. Then the fog rolled in, dull and grey, misting my glasses and driving me back inside without relief.

I don’t know whether the y above the plant was scratched in, or whether it was intentional graffiti. I love the building, and applaud the carnie company that painted it this color.

Found outside Ricky’s, apparently my go to spot for the summer of ‘09. (Apparently not really a geranium, as it is commonly called, but an Pelargon)

In which, this being America, there is a parking lot. Where the behemoths may rest when not needed. We are still having fun on the roof, me inching on my knees towards the edge to place the camera, because I know that falling off and dying really isn’t cool, no matter how tempting the cool kids make it look.