Friends gather to enjoy the warm sun and retell old stories. Perhaps he’ll recount the story about escaping from a hungry bird. She’ll tell the one about the sweetest bloom ever. There’s love and laughter in the warm sun. There will be a game of chase and spectacular aerial dances between sips of nectar. Life returns to the meadow and all is right with the world.
Tag: Lloyds Lens Photography
A Short walk in the park.
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.
The Missing
Unfortunately this is not really one my happier posts. The image above was taken at Hawks Nest State Park. The Swans were brought in to enhance the beauty of the lake formed by the flood control dam. They were a mated pair. The Swans did their job wonderfully. Gracefully floating around lake and spreading joy, peace and love to all who came to the lake. Until one person who either through ignorance or malice shot and killed one of them. Shortly thereafter, the other got sick and died. Why would someone do such a thing as to kill the swan? I don’t know exactly. I try not to attribute to malice that which can be explained as ignorance. What kind of weapon was used? The truth is death doesn’t come in degrees and except for the amount of suffering the swan endured it doesn’t matter. One of the things that I love about nature is simplicity. To the surviving swan all that matters is the emptiness. She doesn’t perceive any difference between a gun, bow & arrow, catapult, wolf, coyote or oncoming traffic. Gone is gone and that’s it.
In the early days of the internet I became a fan of the late Ron Hood and his Hood’s Woods survival blog. I don’t if the rules originated from him or if he just promoted them but here is the rules of three for survival.
1. You can live three minutes without air.
2. You can live three hours without shelter.
3. You can live three days without water.
4. You can live three weeks without food. (under the right conditions)
5. You can only survive three months without love.
Love is just as essential to life as anything on the list. Without love a person’s body goes on but the soul begins to die. However, there is hope. As long as the body can continue to function a love life can be restored. Not only can you be restored but you can come back stronger and happier than ever before. Just like in physical survival emotional survival relies on the ability to adapt and continue the journey. In physical survival we have to adapt our diet. Nobody has been saved by finding a spectacular pizza tree in the deep forests. In emotional survival we have to hold onto the love and respect of friends and family. We have to just keep moving forward with determination until the point of rescue. Never fail to offer a stranger a smile. It may be returned with the potential of a friendship that becomes more. Don’t be afraid to hug someone. You may just find out that they are waiting for you to rescue them back. The swans were brought here and isolated. The surviving swan had no community to draw on for support. We don’t have to be alone. If you’re hurting today the best advice I can give you is to go out and find at least one person who could use a friend and then be one.
The First signs of Spring
The days are noticeably longer in the Appalachian mountains. Mother nature has begun to open her sleepy eyes. The buds on the trees have begun to swell and some of early flowers will be in bloom in just a few weeks. We’re still expected a few cold days and a spring snow is quite common in the end of March or early April. The Southern breeze occasionally peeks up out of the Gulf of Mexico to share warm kisses and hasten the thaw. Soon it will be time to plant gardens and make plans for cookouts and family gatherings. Most of all, there’s opportunity to find a nice quiet spot and just breathe in nature.
The tree in the image above grows in a park next to New River Gorge Bridge. The bridge is over 3000 feet long (924 m) and 876 feet high (276 m)
The catwalk under the bridge is open to the public and tourists can walk out over the gorge. I have texted with and seen pictures of one of the engineers walking the steel beams without a net or safety line. But I digress.
With the weather warming up I hope to bring you some fresh images of West Virginia. Our mountains and valleys are truly beautiful in the Spring.
Relics
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.
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