Friday, April 29, 2011

Memorable Memories



















White-throated Sparrow





























Pussy Toes





Yellow-rumped Warbler





He sat back in the morning sun and thought about a thousand memories, all at once. He drifted a bit and stood up to get another cup of coffee. A hoot started off to his left and he looked to see who was there. Another hoot followed, with another close by. He listened again and was sure of the three separate owls. They charmed the treetops and soon must have found a new area to sing. He waited for more, gazing at all the activity on his feeders. A screech said wood duck and he went and filled his cup. There was a nice feel to this morning, it carried an air of happiness. The owls had topped the start of his day like frosting on a cake. He thought of a dozen things he could do, but sat in his chair and let his coffee get cold. He heard a song in the air, a song that was drifting all around him. He sat listening to it well.





He grabbed a handful of rods and reels and set to untangling the mess when he came back up on his porch. It was a part of fishing a friend used to say, when you untangled lines to get ready. He set to work stripping off old line and cleaning everything up a bit. He smiled remembering the fish each of his rods had caught, and was ready for the new season. He set all the hooks and weights he cut off into a coffee saucer. This was some major work and he could use a helping hand he thought. Pacing off his yardage he walked out the lines to replace the worn lines. Sometimes he used to have his daughter run it out for him both to take it off and replace the line. One year while putting up Christmas lights they found a piece of line carefully woven into a nest. No nesting materiel today, he wrapped up all his old line and carried it to the garbage. Placing a small weight on the tip of each line, he tested the casting of each pole. He then put on a few hooks and sinkers to have each ready for action.





He drove down past a park he used to visit as a kid. It was different a bit, but he came here often enough he enjoyed the gradual change. He liked the feel of the land and the spirit it created while out there. Looking at a few trees he wondered how big they were when he first saw them. He laughed at the silly play they did while as kids. The sandbar on the river was a beach, and up and down the river they played. He sometimes fished but the mud and water called out to him to explore. Clam shells and rocks always went home, prized treasures he still picked up. He sat on a washed out tree and listened to the water pass quickly. He could almost hear all the laughter he shared in this area. A smile swept over his face and his memories floated along the ripples of the river and across the plains.




































Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Fun Times Outdoors

Sessile or Toadshade Trillium








Guinea Fowl





Weed Eater, and a very hardy father by the looks of the barn full of babies behind him.





Guard cat








These two baby boys reminded me of a day having fun. They reminded me of when my bothers and I had a good day outside and my mom not seeing the happiness in having gotten a bit dirty.






Barn Quilt


These two barns were side by side and made me think how many families actually stuck it out and stayed farming. The signs on the barns proclaim that pride. The owner stopped while I was taking pictures and asked if I needed any help stopped in the middle of nowhere. He was close to 75 and said he moved there when he was one. Another generation taking the reins. The older barn was dated 1874.























Have you ever paid for a meal for a person sitting by their self in a restaurant? She wondered about many of the single people sitting around her on a holiday. Her salad arrived and she forgot about the few around her, and soon they had all exchanged with others. When you have had lots of family and then it slows down to none could leave an empty feeling when many families are getting together around you. She smiled and greeted a lady when she left, full after a eating her holiday meal, for one. Lucky for her some extended family had invited her for a late meal. They had to work for the holiday and missed part of their family meal. She thought more about buying that meal for a stranger sometime, it could make someone’s day really brighten.





Driving along the roadside flowers blew kisses at her and told her to stop. It was hard not to when the color really was showing for a first time that year. Stopping in a park she relived some old memories of having been here with her family as a child. It always had a charm for her. Roving around a corner she started seeing some of the more recent blooms she had seen in another park two days before. Huge trees filled this river lowland, some lying down from previous floods. Soon she saw a patch of blue just ahead of her and was amazed at the beauty she stood in. Everywhere around bloomed bluebells tall and bright. It was almost like a fantasy picture seeing this black and brown landscape glow with such a heavenly color. Walking down a trail she found where they finally stopped. It was amazing to have found this walking even slower to be able and see each patch. Walking back she stopped at her car and took her camera to a bird watching blind and enjoyed another treat this park had to offer.





Driving home she noticed a greenhouse. It was hard to pass this one and she hoped to find a fruit tree for her home. She looked at new arrivals first and had to go get a bigger box to fill with wants and wishes. It is funny how she had an armload before she found the trees. She saw one that might do, but would have to look it up when she got home. A few new friends fit well with her other finds, and she hoped it would dry up a bit to plant. When she made it to her truck she felt she should have gotten something else, but went on home instead.





She woke up to bright sunshine the next morning and went out and watched the sun come up. It would be a good day for a hike. Wait, she felt a twinge and then realized it was mushroom season. Perhaps there was enough warmth to get a good sack of these delightful little delicacies. A call came and a friend asked what was going on. She said a hike, not wanting a crowd after her mushrooms. It sounded good so off they went to a trail for a hike. Passing a few good-looking trees, she pulled over and said she needed to see if any were out. Her friend stayed in the truck and off she headed, deep into the woods. She looked to no avail and came back commenting on the blooms she had seen. After a few more miles they came to the park. Off she shot into the woods, the mushroom fever heavy. Her friend was soon left behind bidding a welcome to plants she hadn’t seen. She crouched and smelled the air for a musty smell. Being low to the ground sometimes gave one the advantage. She tried to imagine what sound they made when emerging. It was like a burst of energy when she even thought of the good harvests she had. There were none to be seen today however, but it was a nice day out in the woods. She heard a voice and soon caught sight of her friend.