Tag: quiet places

The Memory Of A River

Color Photography

From foundation of the world I came forth. Yes, I know the voice of God Almighty.

I remember the time before your ancestors came. And the time before those who first walked here.

As the ages passed this bounty was my joy to provide. My purpose in creation was providence.

I remember your laughter along my shores.

I know the names of every young boy who laid aside his responsibly to draw a fish from my waters.

I remember when your young maidens played and danced here.

I have worked without rest to deliver the boat and it’s cargo. My strength is yours to command.

I remember your struggles and the days when brother killed brother.

I remember the hard times when you had very little money and yet so much joy.

Today, I weep with you for I remember the things which you have forgotten.

Perhaps, if you can just put away your little black gazing box for a little while. Put it back in your pocket and pull the wires from your ears.

Gaze on my shores instead. Listen to the songs of birds and insects in the day. And, the frogs and crickets by night.

Do your legs remember running? Can you still feel the joy of racing the wind along my shores?

The melting ice will soon give way to a blanket of moss.

The warm sun will awaken the bloom and color will return.

Awaken yourself. Return to me. Come and play in my waters.

I am the River.

A Gathering

Color Photography, wildlife

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.

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.

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.

Cardinal Flowers and a new myth

Color Photography, Fiction Story

The Cardinal Flower is a common sight in Eastern North America. It’s an important resource for hummingbirds and it’s used Native American herbal medicine. (It is considered toxic to humans!) If you want to read more about the scientific information on Cardnial Flower you can click HERE. But, if you’re interested in the new myth then read on.

A very long time ago two tribes lived in the Appalachian mountains. They were separated by a large river. One tribe farmed and fished the Northern bank and the other made their living on the Southern side. They would occasionally trade by meeting in center of the flat water in dugout canoes. Until one winter day when a disagreement arose over a bad trade. From that point on the tribes would be enemies. The Northern chieftain had a young son who was a fearless warrior. He excelled in every challenge. When his father fell ill the tribe’s shaman sent him on a mission to gather fungus from the birch trees which was on the other side of the river. While gathering the fungus he stumbled upon a young maiden bathing in a side stream of the river. His heart skipped a beat and it was love at first sight. He was so struck by her beauty that he forgot where he was and stepped on a twig snapping it. The sound alerted her his presence and she gasped loudly when she realized she wasn’t alone. Their eyes met his love was returned. They were so lost in each other’s gaze that they didn’t notice the other warriors responding to her gasp until an arrow found it’s mark deep inside the young man’s chest. He stumbled towards her and died on the edge of the water. In her heartbreak, the maiden fainted in the middle of the stream and drowned. The warriors in both tribes were in shock. As they looked at the scene that had just played out a single red flower sprung up from the blood that was spilled on the water’s edge. To their amazement, a small bird with a ruby red throat rose from spot where the maiden fell. The bird flew over and began to kiss the flower and to this day when a hummingbird kisses a Cardnial Flower it’s a reminder that even death cannot stop true love.