Where seeds of thought have room to grow
Category: Every Picture Tells a Story
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I spend a lot of time on things I enjoy … walking through the Hollow, writing, photography, running, dancing, watching movies, reading, connecting with friends … But there's one thing I do purely for fun. It benefits no one but myself. It's not something I can do with anyone else, like walking or dancing…
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Do you remember the photo above from way back in the fall, before my camera smacked the concrete and all I had for weeks was my zoom lens with which to capture images of Long Hollow? Well, last weekend, if you remember, my fabulous "I-can-fix-anything" husband fixed said broken lens, the one that allowed…
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"…Ooh, that smell! The smell of death surrounds you…" ~ Lynyrd Skynyrd It punched me in the nose this morning, just as I stepped out the door and Belle jumped on me. I knew that smell. I've lived in the country for a few years now, with country dogs. Country dogs like dead things. Did…
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Jim called himself an Indian, not a Native American. He was born and raised in Oklahoma, but for the life of me I can't remember what tribe's blood ran through his veins. His skin was dark like oiled leather, his black hair untouched by gray despite the thirty year difference in our ages. I…
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When Belle first peered through the French doors at me this morning, eager for our walk, the Hollow was still dark and blanketed in fog. It was beautiful but eerie … the new sunlight created a world of gray. Silhouettes of trees were specters lining the back ridge. The fog had begun to lift by…
Long Hollow 