This is dawn over Lake Superior. I suspect, if you didn't know the location, that it could appear to be sunset.

Sunday in church I began to ponder something that was said (not during the sermon, I would never daydream during the sermon!) about senior adults and what age that status began. I'm not ready to declare myself a senior, although I am on Medicare, much to the disappointment of my physician. I receive pension and social security payments. What hair I have is white, and the store clerks ALWAYS ask if I need help to take my purchases to the car. (Well, maybe I came on the Senior Bus!) I'm not ready to be categorized that way. I was in such a rush to be a teenager (although that time was rather brief), and then to finish schooling, and then on to the next challenge. I even anticipated retirement, but not to be "golden" or "silver" or "senior" or in the "sunset of my life." And Sunday, I realized that this period of my life could last a long time (I'm in good health). Certainly longer than being a teenager, and maybe even the twenty years of schooling, and probably longer than any place I ever lived (several are tied at 6 years). This could be a terrific time, and I could certainly use companions for the rest of the journey, whether they are Seniors or Juniors or just enjoy being alive!

But could we come up with another word to describe this era and those of us who have made it this far and intend for much more?

I noticed this Shagbark Hickory on a walking trail near the Natchez Trace last week. These trees, found only east of the Mississippi and not near the coast, can grow to a height of 80 feet and live 200 years. The bark appears loose and in long strips, as if the tree is peeling or shedding its bark. You could probably put your hand easily under the loose bark.

I found it fascinating that it appeared as if the bark was ready to fall off. The bark strips added to the appearance of the girth of the tree. Remove the bark, and how much of a tree do you have left? But, how can it be a tree without the bark? The bark gives it character and identity and protection. I'm not crusty after all. I just have fascinating bark.

Continuing the theme from yesterday...

This is the large, old oak tree that overlooks the field where Madeline plays soccer on Saturdays. I have noticed it every time. This Saturday, the sun was shining behind it in the late afternoon. I don't know how old it is. Part of this area is the historic setting of the Battle of Nashville, during the Civil War. I suspect it could be 100 years old. There are two large oaks at the back border of our yard, but they are not this large. I'm working on a project I call Tree Stories. I suspect this one has a story or two. Especially, if it's 150 years old. Then it could tell stories of soldiers running this way and that. Now, it's little boys and girls kicking and chasing a ball. I guess the older you get, the more stories you have. I'm getting more every day. Some are more worth telling than others.

The few hours after dawn and before sunset are magical.

We had driven down the Natchez Trace making several stops along the way until we got to the monument marking the grave of Meriwether Lewis. One of the rules for photographers is always check behind you for another photograph. Sure enough, I thought this image was more striking than the monument. Here were several large dogwood trees and the evening sunlight shining through them at an angle signaled their beauty. The entire woods was singing.

Stop. Look. Pause. Drink it in.

Look some more. Listen with your ears and your eyes. This time and place is magical.

And it happens over and over again.

With all of the rain this week, perhaps a return visit to Burgess Falls is in order.

Burgess Falls has four separate cascades that allow the Falling Water River to drop more than 250 feet in a short distance. The last falls, pictured above, is 136 feet high, (17 stories tall). From this perspective above the falls, it does not look that large, but when compared to a 17 story building that is quite a distance. This is the view of the entire falls; I posted a photo of a portion of the falls earlier in the week. I just can't get enough!

Pretty to look at.

But "Butterweed" (cress-leaf grounsel) is toxic to animals and humans. And it retains its toxicity even when dried, and can be poisonous to cattle when mixed in with baled hay. I didn't know all that until we tried to identify this flower that was in large patches along the Natchez Trace. Plant identification is tricky, and requires more than the bloom; leaves and stalks are helpful as well to determine which wild flower this specimen could be, as well as the time of bloom, and its environment.

Similar plants were used for herbal remedies. But one wouldn't want to confuse them.

This waterfall is part of Twin Falls in Rock Island State Park, north of McMinnville, Tennessee.

The tree with the purple flowers to the left of the water is a Princess or Empress Tree, brought to the US in the 1830's. The tree looks similar to Wisteria with upward growing blooms, but is an invasive exotic tree. This tree, grown throughout the south on large antebellum estates, can have enormous leaves and numerous seed pods. With more than 85,000 seeds per ounce, one tree may have more than ten million seeds!

It is astonishing where one can find this tree growing, such as along the highway in rocky cliffs, or as above, hanging over a waterfall. It has escaped the gardens and grows in challenging situations. Life among the rocks!

The flowers here that the small bee is finding so fascinating is Fleabane. I think it's Common Fleabane, but there are 173 varieties to Fleabane in the United States. The blooms are not very large, but are still attractive, and quite delicate.

I found this plant near the Natchez Trace last week, blooming in many places. I find wildflowers irresistible, and try to identify the ones that I photograph. Too bad I don't remember then for much longer than they bloom!