Speaking of Terry
When you have a conversation with Terry, he spends as much time listening and thinking as he does speaking. Which makes his words all the more interesting to hear when they do come out. He may be soft spoken, but he commands your attention none-the-less.
Wet Day on the Farm
Typical of late fall weather here in Ohio, we’ve had plenty of rain. Slow falling, drizzle, the kind that seeps into your bones. The kind that creates lots of mud.
The animals don’t seem to mind at all. And so, I suppose that I shouldn’t be bothered by the weather either. But, I am. As a photographer, I like the textures and saturated colors that come out in the rain. As a human being, and one in his fifties at that, I have begun to enjoy my creature comforts too much to fully embrace cold wet weather. I am not after all, a pig. Though some might say otherwise.
Sewing Box
I simply loved the blue of the box. Sometimes, you don’t need a reason to take the shot other than you wanted to.
Children’s Barn Dance
Way back in September, I attended a children’s barn dance and was reminded that I am just a big kid when it comes to these kinds of events. I adore seeing the delight, confusion, and all-round joy that the kids are having.
With guidance from the grown ups, the children were put through their paces. The parents were not allowed on the danced floor, but cheered on from the sidelines.
When the dancing was finished, the band kept playing for me. It was one of these fantastic moments, when you realize what good friends you have.
As the winter approaches (and my winter blues begin to kick in, dragging my spirits down), I can look at these images. The children and the great big smiles help me to remember the warm sunny day and the sounds of the blue grass music. The kind acts, and the laughter become vivid in my imagination. And for just a few minutes, the blues are held at bay.
So close, and yet…
Rain on the Farm
Friday afternoon, I spent some time relaxing at the farm. Carriage Hill is serene and tranquil on most days. A place to wander, explore, and visit with friends. One of the rare exceptions to the quiet on the farm is when the summer thunderstorms roll through, throwing lightning in all directions and booming in loud echoes.
Not long after arriving, I wandered down to check on the horses. That’s when drops began to fall and within moments, the sky opened up and the deluge began in earnest.
Soon, the rain was everywhere. Drops bounced off the fences and dripped from the roof lines. The water collected in pools and ran in rivulets through the barnyard.
Unfortunately for the horses, they were stuck in the downpour. There is an overhang on the back side of the barn and though they found some protection, their rear ends were soaked. Poor Jimmy and Charley had to endure the full force of the storm. because there was no room for them.
Thirty minutes passed before the thunder storm moved on and left the farm transformed by the wetness. I like the residue of the storm…wonderful light and dark wet wood and brick.
And while it’s nice to see the drops on the flowers, the sheep probably don’t appreciate being soaked with heavy wet wool.
That was the excitement on my Friday afternoon. How did I fare? Not badly at all. I found the shelter of the well’s pump shed and rode out the rain.
Have a great week, folks.
Reading in Dialect
On a recent visit to the farm, Debbie read from a 19th century cook book that was written in dialect. The lush phonetic vocabulary reminded me of the short stories I’ve read from Paul Laurence Dunbar, who wrote in dialect as well. He was a fantastic and well known poet and in his short life time, he gained quite a bit of fame. Unfortunately, he died young. Being a Dayton native and good friend to the Wright brothers, he is one of Dayton’s celebrated sons.
As for the cook book reading, the wonderful descriptions of the contents and the cooking process were delightful to hear in Debbie’s southern accent. When was the last time that you listened to someone else reading aloud? Do you read aloud? I read in silence, and perhaps I am missing out on part of the experience.
The Tracing
Do you remember tracing pictures onto paper when you were a kid? I would take the original and lay a fresh sheet of paper over it and then run to the window. The brightly lit glass was the closest thing I had too a light box. Pencil in hand, I would outline the drawing until I had a near perfect copy. That’s when the crayons came into play. On the table, I would fill in the tracing with color until I was sure I had yet another masterpiece on my hands. That’s when my finished art work would go to the refrigerator to be held in place by a banana magnet…the sure sign of success.
Seeing Jen tracing a drawing using the very same method brought back a lot of wonderful memories for me. Thanks Jen.
Have a wonderful Sunday, folks!
Family Gathering
The extended farm family was enjoying the threshermen’s meal under the giant catawba tree when the sky’s opened up. The solution was obvious and near. The big side porch fit everyone with room to spare.
Enjoy your Saturday, folks.
tim mcmurdo 