Captivated by Carousels

Fisherman's Wharf, San Francisco

I love taking pictures of carousels. The colors, the patterns, the movement -- they’re intoxicating. I find that I’ve taken numerous pictures of carousels since I went to the Merry-go-Round Museum in Sandusky, Ohio. I was fascinated to learn about the artistry of carousels, though the rides themselves do not particularly interest me. Let’s face it; merry-go-rounds are for toddlers and old people. There is no thrill in galloping in circles.


And yet – I ride every carousel I come across. At Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco, near the Smithsonian in Washington, D.C., below Sacre Couer in Paris, France and at various amusement parks across the country. I ride them and I take pictures of them. They’re beautiful.

Zoom in and you’re hypnotized by the confusion of color and old-fashioned swirls as the merry-go-round spins. You can look at a picture of a carousel and hear the tinkling calliope music. You can smell the cotton candy and popcorn crowding the midway. You can feel the lazy up-and-down motion of the rickety horses between your legs as you anxiously catch glimpses of your festivity in the passing mirrors.

I protest that I don’t love carousels, but maybe secretly, I do. I have a personal connection to them. In fact, some of the most joyous moments of my life have occurred in amusement parks. The carousel reminds me of that. My first job was at an amusement park. I had my first date with my husband at an amusement park. He later proposed there. Now we take our children there.

This is just one of many carousel pictures, but now I’m thinking that I can probably never have enough.