From page 7 of
Ansel Adams, by Mary Street Alinder:
"Ansel was a lonely child, more comfortable with adults than with others his own age. He made few friends. He looked rather like a skinny squirrel, with eyes that bulged a bit and ears that stuck out. These features, combined with his twisted nose and open mouth -- whether for breathing or to allow for his almost constant chatter -- made him seem strange to other children.
Ansel had to be in motion at all times; otherwise, he would twitch with frustration, his mind flitting along with his body. He had no patience for games, though he did briefly attempt roller skating and golf. Today he would be classified as hyperactive, but then he was seen as a significant behavior problem."
The squirrel below, who allowed himself to be photographed this morning, may be the same squirrel as the one above that I photographed yesterday morning. In both instances, I was in the same general area when I was startled by the close proximity of the squirrel, and I fumbled with my camera. The squirrel waited until I took his picture before flitting away.
Wild squirrels, unlike human children, are fortunate not to be saddled with descriptions such as "hyperactive" or "significant behavior problem." When I read Mary Street Alinder's book some years ago, I wondered what would have happened to Ansel Adams if his high spirits and exuberance had been medicated away when he was a child. What I recall is that his parents chose to homeschool him rather than have him go through the public schools being labeled a problem child.
As Solitary Walker said in his comment yesterday, while I've been taking these recent black and white photographs, I've been thinking of Ansel Adams, and Edward Weston, too, and feeling gratitude for their particular way of seeing the natural world in black and white and shades of grey.
