“Farming looks mighty easy when your plow is a pencil and you’re a thousand miles from the corn field.” Dwight D. Eisenhower
Posts Tagged ‘rural
19
Apr
20
Plant something…
25
Feb
20
Once upon a time…
Old ranch in Sonoran Desert near East Jesus, Cal.
21
Jan
19
A peek at Mother Nature…
‘We have almost forgotten how strange a thing it is that so huge and powerful and intelligent an animal as a horse should allow another, and far more feeble animal, to ride upon its back.’ Peter Gray
Ranch in Central Oregon. I have not ridden but one horse in my life. ‘Gumdrop’ was the horse, when I was 8 y/o….we failed to form a connection on a pack trip into the Wallowa Wilderness in Oregon.
18
Jun
17
good luck always…
Whether your horseshoe in life is turned upward or downward, may your good fortunes be collected and/or poured forth for you and yours!!!
12
Apr
17
take on the darkness…
“Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing.” August Wilson
11
Apr
17
Don’t you wonder?
“The barn standing so simple, embraced with time past, an old dwelling full of memories that forever last. Rain dripping down the eaves, rabbits burrowing underneath the leaves. Walking with my mind back to days untold, a path in which my father tread until he was very old.” Lorraine E. Watson, Ode to the Old Barn
21
Mar
17
forgotten barn…
old vines reach upward
faded red siding gives way
cracks and seams yielding
03
Mar
17
old, seldom used…
along a remote road in Central Oregon (above Rufus). Standing alone with the modern wind turbines and power lines in the hazy distance.
01
Mar
17
a place in the country…
“Inside a barn is a whole universe, with its own time zone and climate and ecosystem, a shadowy world of swirling dust illuminated in tiger stripes by light shining through the cracks between the boards. Old leather tack, lengths of chain, rope, and baling twine dangled from nails and rafters and draped over stall railings. Generations of pocketknives lay lost in the layers of detritus on the floor.” Carolyn Jourdan, Heart in the Right Place
