Some days it seems like a dark cloud just hanging over my head everywhere I go. I look up and there it is trying to look all innocent. The one in feature image is trying to disguise itself and look like a unicorn. “Pay no attention to me. I’m just a unicorn ” it says. But I know better. That cloud is just waiting for me to relax so it can rain all over me. But I wasn’t born yesterday and I’m not fooled by crafty shapeshifting. I keep my trusty oversized army surplus poncho close at hand. As I turned to open the door of my truck to retrieve my camera a cold wet sensation is felt on the back of my neck. A single raindrop runs down towards the collar of my shirt trying to find the best place to spread it’s chill. With cat like reflexes my hand moves on it’s own to close off all entry points. The other hand finds the umbrella and in one motion I spin around to face my attacker. The spring loaded umbrella pops open with blinding speed. Whump! Defiantly I glare at this nebulous aggressor from behind my nylon shield. Okay sucker, you asked for it. It’s well known among Frontiersman that Davey Crockett once grinned down a bear. Nothing, no force of nature can resist the power of such a grin. Now, I don’t know if it was the spirit of old Davey Crockett channeling through me or if my grin is really just that silly but when when I sprang from behind my umbrella and grinned at that cloud something happened. At first I thought it was thunder. Then I realized that the cloud was beginning to snicker. Just a little at first but I kept grinning. Then, the cloud just couldn’t hold back any longer. That cloud let out a full on belly laugh! In fact it laughed so hard that it wet itself all out into the river and is passing through Mississippi on it’s way to the Gulf of Mexico even as you read this post! I know it’s hard to believe me but you can ask the blind man. He witnessed the whole thing. 😉
Tag: Appalachian mountains
A Perfect Day With You
A balmy breeze sweeps across the open field gently shaking the tall grasses. Just outside the frame the sweet scent of roses finds it way to the spot where we’re just taking in the warmth. The curious little hoverfly buzzes up our faces for a better look at the giants who have come to visit his space. I heard you giggle slightly when he landed on the end of my nose just make sure that I wasn’t some strangely tall flower. Satisfied that I wasn’t a good source of pollen or nectar he lifted off once more and returned to the daisy. This is perfect spot for our time together. We spread out the old blanket that we keep in the back of car for emergencies. It’s our getaway time. No agendas. No responsibilities. Just time to lay down and watch the world. We look at clouds and make up stories about the shapes we see. We laugh and talk until the birds singing transitions into crickets. Just before the last rays of the sun disappear behind the mountains the little hoverfly returns. I couldn’t help but giggle when he landed on your nose too.
It was a perfect day but we can’t stay here forever. We gather our blanket and put it in its place in the back of the car until the next perfect day. Which I hope is tomorrow.
Morning Coffee
Pictured above is the trestle bridge at Gauley Bridge West Virginia. The Gauley River was peaceful and calm when I stopped at the convenience store to top off my morning coffee. You can see the last pylon from the old bridge still standing in the water.
Once part of American Civil War the remnant of the old bridge now imparts a peaceful feeling as I look out over the cool green water. Just beyond the trestle is the point where the Gauley River meets the New River to form the Kanawha River. The flat water seems to be popular with kayak enthusiasts who paddle up stream to relax on some large flat rocks and play in the shallows. The place always seems to give me nice reflection for my lens as well. After taking a few deep breaths I pulled myself away from the urge to call off work and headed back onto the highway slightly heartbroken due to leaving such a peaceful scene.
The Thrill Of The Hunt
I’ve been a hunter for most of my life. These days I’ve replaced my rifle with a camera but the basic skills are the same. If you sit still long enough they will come to you. But there’s a trick. You have to be able to become a part of the environment. Sitting in the woods with a camera isn’t enough. They can hear your heartbeat long before you can here their approaching footsteps. On a calm day they can smell you from hundreds of yards/meters away. If you don’t belong there they will know and stay away. Learning to belong to the wild places takes some time and practice but being at peace with creation is a very positive experience. Keeping your mouth closed and your ears open helps prevent them from smelling your breath. The birds will tell you where he is. As he walks towards you, the forest falls silent. Control your excitement. A racing heartbeat is a sure sign that you don’t belong. When he comes into sight he’ll snort and try to get a fresh scent of you. Be steady and move very slowly. His ears will twitch as he tries to pinpoint your heartbeat. Easy does it. Focus. Now, take the shot. He heard the shutter snap and he bounds off to be hunted again. Each time will be different but you’ll never lose the thrill of the hunt.
Battle Scars
In an ancient kingdom in a far away land the young recruits of the kings army gathered to meet the Man At Arms. It was his job to turn peasants into warriors. They were undisciplined . They wandered about the yard gawking at everything. They spoke in loud voices about irrelevant topics. They paid no attention to the surroundings. The Man At Arms raised his hand and gave a sign to the watchers on the castle walls. The drums began a loud tattoo and the heavy oaken doors opened slowly. A hush falls over the recruits. He doesn’t speak a word at first. The young men instinctively follow him inside where there in the torchlight hang rows of battered and cracked shields. The Man At Arms speaks. “This is the Hall Of Honor. The men who once held these shields did not turn and run. They stared in the face of our enemies and held their ground. They proved their worth in heat of battle and kept the kingdom.” The young men marveled at the condition of shields on the walls. Dented, broken, scarred and in ruin all except for one shield at the end of the hall. It would have been in perfect condition had not been for heavy Patina of oxidation. The plaque beneath the unused shield read, Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. He fought no battle and his armor did rust. The Man At Arms noticed one of the recruits reading the plaque. “This man was a coward and always avoided confrontation. Nobody remembers his name.
After publishing the picture of Tiny several days ago one my coworkers on my day job pointed out a second turtle making his way along the outside of the office. All I had at the moment was my cellphone but I decided to walk over take a snapshot. He was fairly big for an Eastern Box Turtle. However as you can see he’s been through the wringer. Because he’s missing an eye I decided to name him Popeye after the famous cartoon sailor. His shell has sustained quite a bit of damage that seems to have healed over. I can tell that some scars are older. This kind of damage means bird attacks. (Larger birds will try to peck through the shell . ) He didn’t try to hide when I got close and I almost think he was daring me to try and pick him up. It’s the first time I’ve ever actually worried about being bitten by a box turtle. Popeye has certainly won his place in the Hall Of Honor. He also taught me that even though a battle will leave you with scars; victory is possible. It’s going to happen eventually. Eventually we all get a battle scar here and there. Some of us are going to have quite a few. But the scar is evidence of surviving the battle. Means you’re gaining experience, wisdom and strength. As long as you don’t give up the fight you’ll earn your place of honor.
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