**My Mom and Gene**
In the early 90's Gene, my wife at that time, and I visited my family in New Jersey. We went to Wildwood, and kind of relived part of my childhood. For vacation my mom would take us to Atlantic City, Wildwood, or a place called Reed's Beach. We didn't go anywhere else. The weather was balmy and windy. My mom, lights her ever present cigarette and combined with Gene's expression and the piece of trash on boardwalk seems to sum up my whole childhood vacation experience. When I look back at the images I have made of my mom, it is pretty rare that she does not have a cigarette in her hand. She died young.
I was listening to the radio and they were saying Panther Junction was getting some rain as well as 20 miles south of Marathon so I headed out to see it. On the way back I saw the coachwhip, and pulled over to check him out. I thought he might be road killed. When I got up to him though he was alive and well. Normally coachwhips are fast and gone. They are very hard to get close to, and though they are not venomous, they are as Alan Tennant describes in his book "Agile Biters." This one was moving real slow, enjoying the wet pavement. I photographed him and he started to move off the highway. I made images of him in the grass too. It's the first time in 34 years I've gotten this close enough to have a coachwhip model for me. Patience is a virtue. Which I don't have by the way. Crystal Albright has the best image I've seen of one. Now I finally have one of my own.
**The Texas Country Reporter**
Texas Monthly picked up the story: The Man Known as the “Big Bend Photographer” Reflects on His Life’s Work: https://www.texasmonthly.com/texas-country-reporter/james-h-evans-big-bend-photographer/?utm_source=texasmonthly.com&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=sharebutton. You can also go to my website and watch the full 7 minute piece.
I watched a documentary on John Coltrane. He went to Nagasaki and visited ground zero. He played concerts in Tokyo, and I swear you can hear the screams of 75,000 people dying through his horn. He is Mozart of the Saxophone.
Marci and I have changed our morning routine. We make our morning tea and coffee, a ritual in itself, then do some of the WSJ crossword. Then sit on the front porch, watch the sun rise, the birds sing, and contemplate the day. What's missing you ask? The news. No news. We are happier.
Thank you all for helping me to have a good life. Time is precious and sweet for Marci and me right now. Your support plays a big role.
I don't want to ever serve or eat hamburger again. No reason. Just don't.
Happy Full Moon. Get Outside. Don't miss the eclipse.