Photographic memory

As Photo of the Day editor at NCPR, I get a unique, if skewed look at the North Country. Skewed by the predilections of our contributors, I mean--for beautiful landscapes, colorful fauna and flora, for the outdoor life and children and pets--all the things that become the jewels in family photo albums. Nothing wrong with that--I have an eye for the pretty shot myself. But just as a family photo album shows a sanitized version of family life, so the Photo of the Day shows a North Country absent many of its dimensions, and most notably rare--the picture that tells a story.

Which is why I get excited when I receive a contribution that perfectly captures a narrative, such as Lizette Haenel's portrait of a soldier at Monday's Memorial Day observance in Canton. I received many from that event-- flags and formations and wreaths and salutes. But Lizette's soldier is seated by himself in a section of folding chairs, deep in thought. His only neighbor is a neatly folded flag. You can tell he is about to get up and address the crowd--his notes are held in both hands. But his gaze is not toward the paper, rather he looks into that middle distance where memory resides. The picture tells you everything that he will say.