Tag: Appalachian life

A Refreshing Stop At Cathedral Falls.

Color Photography, Prints Available From Lloyd's Lens Photography, travel, West Virginia

The clean smell of the rain hangs in the air as I pull into the little parking lot. Just crossing the threshold of foot bridge transports me to another world. A primal place with gigantic trees and a thick mat of ferns where the small things live. A tree frog drones out it’s high pitched song calling for his love.

Tread carefully on the muddy pathway to the base of the falls. The trail shows that someone who passed through earlier left their mark on the pathway. A mark that leads to an unexpected bath in the knee deep stream below. Near the base of the falls large flat rocks catch only a fraction of an inch of the water flowing through the mountains. Butterflies play in the air as the cascade fills this natural cathedral with a light mist. Small fish dart around in the highly oxygenated water. Most of the small stones are blown out by the force of the water but the ones caught in crevices are smooth and clean. I could really spend all day here just breathing in the charged air.

But there’s a set of sad eyes and wagging tail who needs to be walked soon. As so, fully refreshed from the rich environment beneath Cathedral Falls I began to pick my path back to my big blue truck and head home.

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A Walk To A Thinking Spot

black and white photography

The mid morning sun has driven away most of the clouds. As I walk the gravel road that leads into the forest I’m aware of almost everything that moves just inside the trees. Several squirrels and a few chipmunks scurry around looking for the first of fallen acorns. The birds flitter from branch to branch. The buzzing of insects is all around. A few leaves tumble down from the canopy. The sounds of nature fill the air. The rapids in the Gauley River below roar and the voices of the other park patrons blend into the chorus. There are five females, two males and three children all near the playground. I can’t see them. But I know that they are there. I can follow the concentration of the bird noises which grows softer where the humans are present. Deeper into the forest the chaos of the outside world fades away. I can smell the horseshoe fungus growing in a black locus tree. The smell of Wintergreen tells me a large birch tree is nearby. As I drop over the hill the forest opens up into a small clearing. A stump left behind by the park rangers is the perfect spot to enjoy the solitude. A place where the unbroken chain of thoughts and contemplation can lead me to a place where inspiration lives. And then it happens. An idea is born and it grows into a dream. And the dream was wonderful. I’ll open the little file in my memory and tuck the dream safely away for now. I began to walk back to my big blue truck occasionally peeking into the file in my memory checking on the little fledgling dream. He has to be kept safe and warm while I prepare a place for the dream live.

If your mind can conceive and your heart can believe, then your will can achieve.

Our dreams are possible only if we work to make them real.

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To Share The Same Sky

Color Photography, Fiction Story, short stories, Summersville Lake, travel, Uncategorized

The September sky was crystal blue and the time of the Equinox signaled an end to Summer’s warm carefree days. The sun hangs low on the horizon. She meets him by the boat launch as her father and brother packs the camp. The last weekend is nearly over. This is last hour of their summer romance. Here on the edge of the fading lake they embrace beneath the sun and moon. Like the celestial bodies above they can only share the same sky for a short season. The lake boy looks deep into her eyes which are the same color blue as the sky. She noticed how the summer sun has left it’s golden tone on his skin. They continue stare silently into each other. Memorizing every line of the other’s face. Every freckle on his face and every colorful fleck in her eyes. The summer was a time when two worlds met and joined as one. But like the sun and moon the forces of nature will only allow the sharing of the sky for so long. As the embrace for summer’s last kiss, he reaches into the pocket of his shorts and pulls out a small box. “Close your eyes” he whispers. She’s a little bit nervous about what comes next but she trusts him and does as he asks. He places a golden chain around her neck. Suspended from it was a locket. It was small but elegant. Inside was the picture of the two of them on the local fishing pier. Her brother had taken the snapshot when they wasn’t looking. “Don’t let me be forgotten” he whispered once more as he clasped the necklace about her neck. A single tear rolls down her cheek and she thanked him for the gift. By now her family waits patiently in the packed car. “I’ll be waiting here for you next summer” she replied with her voice cracking. “True love is faithful no matter how long and cold the nights to come will be.” She added. With no way to delay their parting any longer the young lake boy stepped aboard his day cruiser and drifting off of the shore. He watched with anguish as she got in the car and went home for the school year. Throughout the coming months they would call, text and even attend prom together. The following summer they met again in the same spot by the boat launch. And never parted ways again.

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Return To Wading Willows

Color Photography, Landscapes, Thoughts and Musing

The sound of the rippling water lapping at the shore combined with song birds brings a sense of peaceful joy. I approached the wading willows as if greeting old friends. The willows seem to dance ever so slightly in the river’s currents and it feels as though they are listening to the songs of nature themselves. In the distance the osprey soars across the sky looking for a pearch stunned by falls. Dragonflies skim the waters surface as they hunt occasionally leaving little ripples of their own and the evening sun reflected in the tiny waves produces a light show that only God himself could engineer. The breeze coming off of Kanawha Falls is cool and gently stirs in and around the small park. I take a deep breath and release the stress of the workday into the river so that it will carry away the cares of the outside world. I thank God for choosing to place this natural sanctuary here for me. I take a few minutes to tell him about my day and seek his wisdom. But most importantly I listen. I listen to voice of peace spoken by God and echoed by the moving water. The conversation isn’t long and with my peace renewed I climb back up into the big blue truck and head for home.

It’s important to take time to decompress and find peace throughout the day. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments section below. If you have enjoyed the photos or the writings please share to your social. You can also like and follow Lloyd’s Lens Photography on Facebook

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Child’s Play

Color Photography, Thoughts and Musing

Ah, the carefree days of youth. The smell of the grass and the sun’s caress on my face. Most of all, the time to just wonder around and roam the landscape. I would love to have had a camera in those days when the whole world was one big adventure. The very pasture where I took the picture of my uncle’s calf in the feature image was one of the best places to be a kid. I remember gathering up a whole coffee can full of green plastic army men and positioning them in the rocky outcrops just a little beyond this spot. In the days before electronic devices we would go down to the swampy spot in the bottom of the pasture and prospect for fossils of reeds and such by banging the sandstone together until it cracked. Later on after I married I actually found a few while gathering stone to fix potholes in the driveway. There is a spring close by and at times the field was full of little clay chimneys created by crayfish. Also known as the mountains lobsters these crustaceans live on dry land and burrow holes to find underground water. Just over the hill is a field of honor where two knights (my brother and I) would meet to have duals. A dead stick was the weapon of choice and at one point we had a whole arena set up. A fallen tree served as the main contact point. The “knights” would stand on the log and battle for hours. There was really no way to win. Losing however was accomplished by either having your stick broken down until it was useless or losing your balance and falling off of the log. The consequences of losing was the shameful walk to the edge of the woods to find a new stick.

We would swing on grape vines, climb trees and skip stones. There might even be the remnants of a fort deep in forest.

Come to think of it, I’m adult enough to get out and act like a kid again. Who wants to go jump in a mud puddle? I won’t tell your mom. 😉

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