One Very Odd Spring, It Was 2023

GE McKerrihan
4 min readJul 2

It Caught Me Without Warning, And Why Am I Not Surprised ?

Nature’s detritus, wrapped in man’s blue plastic.
“The Hand of Nature, Wrapped in the Hand of Man” — Image by Author

Most of this story is taken from my journal dated, 4 May 21. The images are more recent, though they seem to reflect the odd mood that arrived with Spring.

Why did I choose the Spring of my 71st year to hibernate? To be truthful, I have no known clue. Yet looking back it was inevitable. And in a sense it happened before I knew it was happening. It just happened. Life is like that at times.

And I am left with trying to make sense of the result. Perhaps it is the result of living closer to the Equator. In sub-tropical southern Mexico, the seasons don’t change much. One easily runs into the next, and round and round the the circle goes. Does it ever end? I am not qualified to provide the answer.

Black park bench, and its shadow.
“Black Bench, And Its Shadow” — Image by Author

Though now that I am aware of this peculiarity, I search my mind and my heart for reasons, for justification, for explanation. Trying to make sense of it all. I continue to come up empty handed. My constant question is, WTF?

The first twelve months after my arrival in Oaxaca, I kept myself busy with walking several miles, and making tens of twenties of new photographs daily. It easily became routine, became my preferred habit. It made me feel productive, made me feel like I was accomplishing, what I set out to accomplish. Whatever that might be, I won’t claim to understand it all.

Then as a new spring approached, it all came to an unexpected halt. There was no warning. There was no conscious reasoning. It was not a shift I intended. Who, or what, brought this down on my head, my shoulders? I have no clue. The cosmos works in strange ways, and none of us are immune.

Deflated and decomposed volley ball.
“A One Time Volley Ball” — Image by Author

Yet here it was, my 71st Spring on this planet, and I had run out of juice, run out of steam, run out of desire and inspiration.

It was as if there was no choice about it. If I was not walking, I was not making new photographs. And without new…

GE McKerrihan

I’ve been using the camera for nearly 50 years. I write about Photography, Art, Travel, and Life. Top Writer in Photography, Art, Creativity, and Inspiration.