Tag: Black and white photos

Wounded 

black and white photography, Thoughts and Musing

We seem to have a tendency to do one of two things when we encounter a person who has been wounded either physically or emotionally.  We either ignore the scar totally or we focus on it completely.  Old wounds ache with a dull throbbing pain as a constant reminder that we messed up somewhere along the way.  I  was a rough child. I seemed to collect scars like merit badges. The stitches in the palm of my hand from a broken jar of fireflies,  the scars on my knees from falling out of a moving pickup truck.  I  even have a  couple of scars from a sword. ( only superficial and skin deep) I have numerous scrapes and scratches from briars and brambles.  All of are a roadmap of my life.  But the only scars I feared to collect were the scars on my soul. Broken bones and torn flesh heals so much faster than a wound of heart. As I approach a half of a century of earthly experience I have observed that to some people it’s the emotional scar that carries the badge of honor. Where I have lived life to it’s fullest and carry the physical marks of my adventures others have loved life and bear the honor of those adventures.  

The image used in this post is a chestnut tree on my old home place. Years ago the metal fencepost was leaned against the trunk temporarily and then we got busy. The wound to the tree was one of neglect.  When I think about the emotional wounds and scars of this world I have to believe that the majority are caused by neglect.  We simply forget to go back and relieve a burden. The person wounded carries that burden until it works it’s way into the soul and becomes a part of them.  It’s okay to remind a person of the burden that they left behind. It’s okay to simply cast off something that’s not supposed to be a part of your life.  It’s wise to avoid the wound.  But if you carry no scars have you really lived? One day this tree will be cut down.  All that will remain will be the wood.  As is a tradition in many rural areas someone will use the wood and the inclusion of  scars will make for a beautiful end product.  So it is with the scars we carry  in the soul. They say that beauty is only skin deep but they are wrong. Beauty comes up from the very depth of the soul. It’s the scars and inclusions that make that beauty unique.  

Sunday 

black and white photography, Church, Sunday, Uncategorized
  • Growing up in the Bible belt I’ve been blessed to have the opportunity to visit a lot of small churches.  In the days before the mega church and when there was nobody selling religion.  The churches of small communities were places where families gathered to hear the word of God and not just what the preacher said.  We knew good and well that nobody can buy a ticket to heaven with money or goid works.   Vain obligations were just that. We resisted judging each other because we were justified by the blood of Christ and not by works or money.  Church is a place for bonding not bondage.  
  • The architecture of small community churches is something special.  Everything from little cabins to scaled down cathedrals can be found tucked into Appalachian landscape.  Bells and spires are sometimes  topped with crosses and sometimes not. 
  • The ringing of the church bell was a special privilege.  Young people (mostly boys) would like up and take turns tugging on the rope. In trutruth we just liked making noise.  
  • After church service extended family would get together at the home place for a large meal. The cooks would all gather in the kitchen and soon the house was full of wonderful smells the sounds of laughter.  During the warm weather the children be outside trying to have fun without getting dirty. That’s a very difficult skill to master for a 10 year old boy.  I can still smell my grandmother’s homemade bread when I think about it.  

Obstacles 

black and white photography, Uncategorized

We all have those times when we wish we could just make a little progress.   It’s seems that something is always stopping progress towards a goal. If you’re like me then you double down on your determination and push forward with all your might. But sometimes an obstacle is there for a purpose.  In this case the fence is there because its keeping people from getting to close to edge of the New River Gorge.   

Quiet Time 

black and white photography, Uncategorized

I’m a person who values solitude. We as modern humans are bombarded with stimulus from every angle.  Voices tell us to dress a certain way, go to certain places and pretty much influence every aspect of life.  (Don’t even get me started on the “buy this or fail to be popular ” voice).

This park bench sets in the back of a office building.  It’s a refuge for those who just need a quiet place to breathe.   The day that I took the picture the rain served as an extra layer of protection from the outside world.  The noise of other conversations, intrusion from others and even the excessive cologne from that one person in every crowd is washed away by the falling drops of rain.  

It’s a time to decompress and renew my sense of self.  On this bench I belong to me.  Each drop that hits the cement pad ripples out as a tiny wave to push away the world.  

Sitting in the rain on a cold winter day may not make sense to most people but for me it’s way to clean the day’s mental and emotional clutter from the soul. 

Yellow Poplar on wet pavement.

black and white photography

For my second attempt at a blog post I decided to include a recent photograph.  There’s a place where I like to go and be a part of God’s creation. As I walked there the other day the rain fell as a heavy mist. I liked the way the water beads on the leaf. There was something interesting about the texture of the worn pavement interacts with the beading water that invites me to be drawn into the image.  I can recall the sounds of birds going from branch to branch looking for a dry place to wait out the shower.  The smell of the surrounding forest fills my memories.  The Gauley River runs in the valley below.  When I look at this leaf I can fill the pull of river beckoning me to be come along with the collecting water droplets and seek out the sea that lies many miles away.