Tag: Appalachian traditions

The Fine Art of Cruising

Color Photography

Back in the day warm weather meant cruising. Now, there’s a fine art to this favored pastime of previous generations. First, you need a vehicle. It doesn’t have to be a classic vintage machine but that certainly helps. What’s important is the “CQ” or Coolness Quotient. If you don’t really have a classic ride then there’s several ways of compensating with what’s available.

For example, a compact car such as a Dodge Colt or a Chevy Sundance the preferred method was to fill the back seat with stereo equipment. Next, you needed a good mix tape. In the old days play lists were stored on high tech spools of magnetic film. It was important to make sure you had the right flow to the music because there’s no shuffle like we know today. You could fast forward or rewind. If you were really good at it you could count the seconds and stop the spooling at just the right time to get the song you wanted.

The next thing you need is a long stretch of quiet road and plenty of friends. The party starts in late afternoon. You simply spend hours and hours of driving slowly up and down that quite road with the volume on 10 and the windows down. Hopefully until the wee hours of the night. As you cruise the stretch you look for places to park and visit your friends.

On a good night every teenager in the county will be there. Some will push the envelope too far and the police might be called in to restore order but for the most part trouble is minor. For the guys it’s really about finding the girls. I suspect, that the girls would show up to be found by the right guy.

I’m sure the stories abound. Those kind of stories get better every time we tell them. 😉 What was really important was the memories and the friendships made.

Reel Life

Color Photography, Thoughts and Musing

There’s no better thing on this Earth than to be a ten year old boy with a fishing rod, a lake and no responsibility. The little guy in this photo ran into frame and had nothing on his mind except for getting a hook in the water. I was struck by the thought of a “Reel Life”. That’s not a typo. Reel life should always be part of real life and it’s only going to happen in “Reel Time”. Even if you’re not interested fishing at least make time to get close to nature. Human beings are just as much a part of this planet as any other wildlife. The time spent in fresh air and sunshine is not just good for the body but it also does wonders for the soul.

A Short walk in the park.

Color Photography, Thoughts and Musing

After yesterday’s post about the tragedy of the swan and loss I want to get back to my normal outlook on life. It might seem odd after writing about the need for community and companionship to then blog about how much I enjoy solitude but the secret is a life with balance. I have previously said that my highway to heaven is a dirt road. A nice forest path will do even better. Even if it’s a boardwalk in a park. Just escaping from the chaotic noise and replacing it with the song birds and occasional tree frog does wonderful things to my soul. The image above was taken in the Fall but in my heart it’s always Springtime in the forest. Just thinking about it brings me to a point where I can almost smell the earthy aroma of the moss growing on a fallen log. I can hear the scurrying of tiny feet in the dry leaves. Insects are buzzing about the trunks of the trees and as they pass through the filtered light their wings are backlit giving the impression of fairies living in the woods. For a moment there’s the thumping of a grouse beating the air to establish his territory. The breeze occasionally shifts and brings the scent of wildflowers. The chaos and clamor of so called modern life is a whole world away and there is peace. Just beyond the trail is a large rock or a log that is the perfect spot for sitting. Taking time to enjoy nature is like listening to God’s whispers.

Relics

Abandoned, black and white photography

Every so often I find that my curiosity gets the best of me. I’ve always been an explorer at heart and when I see a piece of junk left behind my inner child wants to play Indiana Jones. I have passed this old drilling rig for thirty years and kept telling myself one day I’ll go down into the overgrown field and check it out. It’s not as simple as it sounds. I live in rattlesnake territory and they absolutely love to make their dens in old machines. It was still winter I figured that they were still hibernating if not frozen stiff and so I made my way to the rig. Since there’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity, I moved cautiously through the briars and winter grasses. I used my tripod to push back the brush and make sure I actually wanted to step there before moving forward. When I finally reached my goal a took a few minutes to appreciate the object before my eyes. I was touching history. Maybe not Earth shattering history but someone’s history. The drilling rig was more than likely used by miners to get core samples for the coal industry. I looked over the broken gauges and switches. The key that turned the machine on was still in the ignition. Levers that were frozen with rust had not been touched by human hands in decades. The steel cables sagged and the wheels had rotted away. I think about the men who operated the drill. I imagine the hot July and August days on the job site. The dust rises from the bore hole turns into mud when it lands on their necks due to sweat. The type of men who do this kind of work are hardy and take pride in the job. They deal with the misery of labor by laughing when it’s over. I would not be surprised if break time included some pranks here and there. There always at least one person on a crew like this who is afraid of snakes and a cheap rubber snake left near a lunch box is better than T.V. These men are not just coworkers. They’re family. They say that history is really his story . But it’s their story and our story. And when you come in contact with one of the relics, it’s your story too.

Ready for take off

Back and White Photography, Thoughts and Musing

The image above was taken at Northgate Business Park in Kanawha County West Virginia.

When I look at this image I’m taken back forty some years. Back to a time before digital photography and drones. A time when many of the conveniences we enjoy today were science fiction. We used to fly kites on a ridge like this one. We learned what was like to hold the wind in your hands. I was always convinced that one day I would build a kite large enough carry me into the clouds. I would go out on windy days with a jacket and find a nice windy spot. I would open the zipper and stick my hands in the jacket’s pockets and stretch out like a kite. I would close my eyes and turn into wind catching it my jacket. I would sway and tilt just like the kites did. As I grew older, I learned that jackets don’t make good hang gliders but I never lost that dream. Even today I will sometimes open my jacket with hands in pockets and imagine that I’m floating in the wind. Perhaps that’s one reason why I like this spot. It looks like a great runway and I just happen to be wearing my flying jacket today.