Beyond Day SixMy sometimes-daily blog of a photograph or two with a few words, celebrating all the days of life that flow through creation into perspiration, inspiration, reflection, sabbath, and resurrection. After the RainThe Great Smoky Mountains frequently have a mist rising from the trees, especially after a rain shower. The fog creates a depth in the scene. I shot this from the porch of the cabin where we were staying with our friends, Gerry and Christie Saunders. I used my 150-600mm zoom lens to be able to zero in and compress the scene so that the fog could be enhanced.
Built By a CommitteeI don't know how to explain this barn. Some of the boards run parallel to the ground, while others are vertical, sort of. None of them are trimmed square to match nearby boards. They are different sizes. There's even a large area that seems to have no siding or structure at all. How is this thing still standing? Did one group want vertical siding while another opted for horizontal? At first I was caught by the color on the boards and how that mimicked the dandelions, and then I noticed the haphazard way this building was constructed. Or maybe somebody was in a hurry. And it's lasted more than a few years. Hope it wasn't a model barn that served as an example for others. Possibly, it was an exercise in creativity. Ah, yes, that's it.
WinnersI remember playing baseball when we didn't have teams. A half dozen or so of would show up at the diamond at the neighborhood school. One would bat and the rest of would be in the field, guarding the bases and roaming the outfield. Usually there wasn't a catcher. The batter would just go back to the backdrop and pick up the ball and throw it back to the pitcher. And we would rotate through all of the positions. Funny thing, we all won that way. I thought for the longest time that was how baseball was played. We all were winners.
Tools of an ArtistDuring our recent trip to Lasqueti Island, we had the opportunity to visit the home and studio of Eve Llyndorah. She is a sculptor, jewelry maker, and painter. She showed us one of the paintings that she was working on and I couldn't help noticing her brushes that were on the floor at my feet. These must be her secret to her great art.
Old PaintOld paint is fascinating to me. I have a print above my fireplace of old paint on a steel bridge girder. I love the texture of that image. My son, Michael, appreciates my photography, but he objects to some of the close-ups of peeling paint. It just feels wrong to him. This image is the side of an old truck at Old Car City where I intentionally blurred the exposure to emphasize the colors rather than the texture. Hope it feels right. Image data: Sony a77ii, 24-70 lens at 45mm, f/8 at 1/5 second, iso 160.
Sugar CookiesWithin the restored farmstead at the Oconaluftee Visitor Center in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park was this young park employee who had the hottest job of the day. She was tending the fire in The Davis House and placing hot coals on the top of cast iron pots. (The Davis House is unique in that it was built with chestnut logs, a tree that has virtually vanished from the US landscape.) She was baking sugar cookies in those pots and the kids that had helped make them judged them as delicious. A little later I saw the same young woman stoking the fire in the blacksmith's shed, a hotter job than this one of baking cookies. I told her that she had obviously drawn the short straw that day to spend it with two hot fires.
Family FencesThere are 26 historic cemeteries on 19 wooded hillside acres just west of downtown Roslyn, Washington. The fences of all types separate portions of the acreage: ornamental iron, chain-link, and wooden picket fences of every pattern and size. They delineate sections of graves that are tended by various ethnic lodges or families. Care for these plots by the various groups appears to be a sacred responsibility. The brochure that describes the cemeteries notes that the fences keep out grazing animals. Some of them did not look substantial enough to carry out that intention. So, there are fences and fences and fences guarding the resting places of loved ones and lodge members. I found the intersection of these fences created interesting patterns, that represent a kind of security amidst old pickets, a sign of family care that has not stopped.
When the Dancing Begins AgainToday's scripture lessons include Psalm 30 with the concluding verses as paraphrased by Eugene Peterson: "You did it: you changed wild lament into whirling dance. You ripped off my black mourning band and decked me with wildflowers. I'm about to burst with song. I can't keep quiet about you." Sorrow and grief are real. Tragedy has invaded many homes. This family lost two precious baby children during one winter: one at the beginning of November and the other in late January. I can barely imagine the sorrow in that home all those cold nights and gray days. How does one move beyond death into life? I admit that to me the psalmist makes it sound easy and quick. That has rarely been my experience. I have observed that sorrow is eased with memories of better days, and the embrace of family and friends. And the spring that eventually comes after a winter like this one, even when it takes years. This image is from Roslyn, Washington, where there are 26 historic cemeteries. And a thousand stories of people remembered and families cared for, and promises kept until the dancing begins again.
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