Back then when summers seemed an unending sequence of warm sunny days
When swimming trunks were shapeless and high-hipped
When trash cans were made of zinc-plated metal and held some kind of mystery
Posted for Sunday Scribblings # 105 – The Photograph.
Yep, that's yours truly in the picture. I was too young to recollect what I was doing there – all the memories I have of this vacation in the Black Forest are vicarious. Whatever it was, my father felt compelled to get out his Leica and take this snapshot.