Three Horses in Virginia

This photo was taken in what was at that time rural Virginia,

 but has now become Tysons Corners.

I learned to ride when I was a lad and belonged to the 

Junior Essex Troop in New Jersey. This organization was like the Boy Scouts 

but with horses and guns. We rode, cleaned the horses and tack, mucked out the

 stalls, fed and watered the horses, shot at targets with rifles, and marched 

around in our uniforms. The experience gave me a fondness for horses 

that I still feel, but not so much for uniforms or marching. 

Me at age 11, not sure how old Black Satin was.

No Parking

My love for photography really began my freshman year in college. The photography course, which art and design students were required to take, covered all aspects of picture making, aesthetic and technical. By my junior year I had set up a "darkroom" in the kitchen of my apartment near school. This was the pre-digital era which meant dealing with rolls of film, splashing about in chemicals, and coping with the idiosyncrasies of an enlarger. Print processing was done at night with the window blacked out (more or less) to control light from neighbors' windows, streetlights, and the occasional bright moon. Although I appreciate the control now possible with digital photography, I miss the magic of seeing an image gradually appear, floating in a bath of developer. 
The photo above, taken a few blocks from my apartment in Brooklyn, is of a ragpicker's wagon in front of his warehouse/stable. It looks as though it could be the 19th or early 20th century, but it was actually the 1960s. Are there still ragpickers plying their trade? Textile recyclers?