the street kid | Winged Beauty Butterflies

Jeff Zablow at Harris Neck National Wildlife Refuge, GA

JLZ at Harris Neck National Wildlife Refuge on the Georgia coast. I gaze at this pic of me, and . . . I’m good with it. Gave up long, long ago comparing myself with make-believe folks, like Hollywood stars, TV personalities and Mickey and Roger and Michale Jordan and what was the name of that NY Giants football great? I stare at this, the me of me, and smile, the street kid in very real Brooklyn, the kid who took the subway to the National Golden Gloves Finals, boxed in Boys Club, took the NY subways for those years to college w/ long steel on me, kinda had Connected friends, but knew that would not be good for the future, Dean (for Discipline) in a New York City high school, managed a Staten Island multi-family and smiled as the last Connected Guy living there moved, was an artilleryman and graduated from OCS, managed buildings in New York’s Chelsea, East Village, SoHo, West Village, Upper East Side, Upper West . . . .

Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Success and a firm belief in G-d are the wind to my sails now. Wealth . . . gone. Friends . . . elusive. Family . . . ‘Dad you shoot “Bugs?”‘ Hey, I LOVE seeking and photographing butterflies. I more so enjoy when YOU come along and ‘Like.’ More than that I LIKE when you ‘Comment.’ You are folks I enjoy, admire and regret that I hardly ever meet!

2021 beckons. Election over, Idiot 20-somethings disappear from the MSMedia . . . 2021 is the year I look forward to busting-out!! I want to shoot, shoot and shoot again. I’ve already received real, not imagined invites to come and be shown destinations heretofore unknown to me in Ohio, Arizona, southwestern Georgia and on the Georgia coast. The ‘Little Boy In The Candy Shop’ is so looking forward to going and meeting Facebook and WordPress friends and together investigating 2021 habitat that they know. Budget? Meager? Heart? Doc always says “Excellent.”

The generation gone always cautioned, “People Plan . . . and G-d Laughs.” What I haven’t mentioned yet is that I’ve always been a species of Optimist. How else could I have survived the stuff written above, the knives, guns, fists, wrecks and the treachery that ended my . . . . Frieda A”H in her last years always (firmly) told me to go, go photograph. Some just hope to see and shoot very, very rare butterflies. Me? I expect that to happen at every turn of the trail.

People Plan . . . & G-d Laughs [at their Plan].

Jeff

Jeff Zablow on Peak of Mt. Hermon Israel

This is an image of Sheer Happiness. Where? I’m on the peak of Mt. Hermon, at the northeastern corner of the HOLYLAND/Israel. Mentioned in the Old Testament more than once, I am standing on an ageless mountain crest,. Behind me you see more of Mt. Hermon’s top, not 100 feet but many miles of mountaintop. Beyond that? Lebanon. A country once proud and prosperous, now overtaken by devilish Hezbollah.

That smile? It was June 2008. Frieda A”H Z”L had passed in January, after an almost 8 year struggle. The last year of her life I was her Caregiver. I cooked and did all, for Frieda, who until the onslaught of Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, cooked, baked, cleaned, sewed, knit . . . did it all, in the European-Polish traditional manner. Our 4 children all excelled. We sat at graduations at America’s fine universities.

Me the street kid from Brooklyn (forget the glasses and such, I fought, much) who survived knives, guns and such, who graduated from OCS a newly minted artillery officer, Dean in a New York City High School who took guns, knives, chukka sticks, pipes from HS guys, had to watch helplessly as Frieda slowly weakened. Helplessly.

Frieda always told me to do what makes me Happy! She knew that photographing butterflies? I loved doing that!! She urged me to go and shoot, even when I was caregiving that last year. She’d say go, ‘Don’t worry about me.’ I went, and always rushed home after.

So here I am on this ancient G-d Loved mountaintop. Eran Banker, my guide took this pic. I am where I dreamed of, the peak of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the peak that Moses must have seen but never visited. We found, and I photographed many, many very rare butterflies. It was maybe 94F or 96F up there, desert-like, no wind . . . SPECTACULAR.

I was finally Happy again, I knew real Love, and it was as if She told me to be right there. To Smile. To Appreciate having survived poverty, the Streets, carrying long steel, and the Love of a Good Woman and to Reflect on being the Father of 4 Healthy, Happy capable children.

I surely must have been remembering Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Success.

This pic, for me? Priceless. A Thank G-d Moment.

Jeff