Here are another four pictures from my walk in the Cleveland Metroparks.

The fastidious naturalist might have thought the narrowness of this part of the reserve — or the electrical wires running along one of the paths — a fault of the conservation. But in Ohio, however tumid the city becomes, it is always surrounded by the forest.

Yesterday I walked through the trees that I have photographed for five years.

On account of the beauty there was the nagging question, Why hadn't you tried this before? I thought carefully, and considered that with only so many trails, I might have run out of subject matter.

The irony of my having photographed a nearby building site, three times a week for most of 2007, came when I was laid off in October. Never again to look out at the building site from that fourth-floor window to the southwest, I would miss the end of construction by several months. Nevertheless, the incomplete record spans ten months — so over the next weeks I will here and there present photographs in pairs or trios, less attention given to chronology than the endeavor's remarkable contrasts.

First: January and September.

The ramshackle house has served as a reference point, and an occasional subject, for nearly five years of photographing the southeast view. A couple of years ago the elderly owner moved or passed on, so the building now belongs to a realtor. For the first time in years, encroaching trees and brush were cleared out — including the evergreens, a solo where a trio once stood. The roof has been reshingled and several windows replaced; all that remains is that faded, butterscotch siding, which nostalgia can keep.

"Lemons" is to "overturned basket half-filled with laundry," as "lemonade" is to "favorite spot for taking a nap."

First, I told him to move from his seat to the right, so I could photograph down the center aisle.

Then, losing track of where and why I had given the order — grinning like the cat who caught the canary — I turned the camera on him.

The music was pleasant; the company genial; the coffeehouse, as I said while there, "the least pretentious I have ever been to."

Mac rediscovered the cursor, which is endearing in some proportion to how important the lower left-hand corner of the screen happens to be.

She wouldn't budge. As I was calling her for dinner, had I interrupted a "moment"?