I guess that’s sort of how the baby bird feels when it’s time to leave his nest for his first flight. He sees other birds fly. He sees his parents fly and they tell him that he too, can fly now. Even his brothers and sisters have taken the leap. But what if it’s too soon for ME? What if I fly in the wrong direction? What if the wind carries me off course? What if? What if I don’t?

“Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
~Mark Twain

Easier said than done.

The bridge itself was built in 1909 and is the last extant covered bridge in South Carolina. It was named after its owner, Alexander Lafayette Campbell, who also owned and operated a grist mill on the site, the remnants of which are still in the woods beside the bridge for tourists to explore.

(Click on the preview above to pull up a full view of the picture.)

An adult male peacock has about 200 tail feathers that are shed and re-grown annually. About 170 of these tail feathers are ‘eye’ feathers and about 30 are ‘T’ feathers. The structure of these feathers, their placement and the bird’s ability to ‘deploy’ them in stunning displays of color is a natural wonder of intricate and critical design. The mechanisms responsible for producing these beautiful features of the male’s display feathers are very sophisticated.

If you’re painfully GEEKY like Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory, you might be interested in reading more about peacocks and their flashy feathers in this article: (click here). It goes into absurd detail, complete with scientific mathematical equations–GEEZ!), and the appearance of the word ‘genisis’ in the address, along with a light skim over the page’s text seems to indicate there is something in here somewhere about the argument between creationism and evolution. I don’t particularly CARE about such detail, nor does the common peaHEN. The important issue is that to be in the presence of a show-off male peacock is exhilarating and a wonder to behold. Fortunately for the peacock, peahens feel the same way.

You can meet this handsome specimen at Hollywild Animal Park in Inman, SC.

(Click on the previews above and below to pull up a FULL VIEW of the pictures.)

Another thought…is always a good idea to have someone watch the door for you when you use a public facility…

(Click on the previews on this page to pull up a FULL VIEW of the pictures.)

An old shot of another neighbor’s donkeys seemed a PERFECT fit for this old tractor. I had actually put the tractor on 3 other backgrounds too…all of which I like, and may post later…this one just turned out to be my favorite. It’s almost as if the donkeys are checking out the tractor as the “new guy” in the field…”So he thinks he’s a hot shot…sitting over there with his big rubber tires and loud motor…PFFT.”

There is no question. With or without an official medical diagnosis, it’s certain that I am afflicted with SAD (seasonal affective disorder). It happens every year. I like winter to an extent, but after a couple of months of it, I’ve had enough…3 months and I’m bordering on severe depression and utter insanity.

Beginning in November, I start feeling unusually lazy and unmotivated. I can’t get going in the mornings and I plop down on the sofa like a slug at the end of a workday and gaze blankly at the TV as though in a coma. I don’t want to go anywhere, don’t want to do anything, don’t want to see anyone. If life did not necessitate full-time employment, I would happily drift into a full-fledged state of winter hibernation until this dreary season was passed.

Here in the south, we are not even graced with any of the normal perks of winter, such as pretty snow. Frozen precipitation here is more often just sloppy sleet and freezing rain, which too often results in DAYS (sometimes WEEKS) without power (aka Internet and TV…EGADS!). Even in those rare events when we actual DO see white stuff, we’re expected to risk life and limb to show up on the job regardless, so we don’t get to ENJOY it while it’s here…which is rarely more than 1 day at best.

Painting, drawing, even writing…creative inspiration and endeavors…it’s the ONE thing, the ONLY thing, I want to do during this miserably depressing season. I would be delighted to hold up in a cave and just paint the winter away, if not for the unreasonable demands of responsible living and friends who just do not understand the typical inclinations of a hermit afflicted with SAD.

I had important things to do today. I SHOULD have ridden at least one horse while the weather is not miserably cold. Instead, I fed them and considered my responsibilities met in full. I should have taken my dogs to the vet for their allergy shots. I overslept instead. I should have gone to pick up a print job that’s going to cost me God knows what. Instead, I started a painting. I’m not finished with it yet. I’m never really finished with anything, which is one reason I love digital media…it’s always available to revisit and improve upon, or even completely rework. If only LIFE were so easy to revist and improve upon…even rework entirely…

Ralphie: I want an official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle!
Mrs. Parker: No, you’ll shoot your eye out.

So, what do YOU think this conversation is about? Leave a reply and add your OWN caption!

Markiz was my grandson Kendall’s favorite of my 3 horses. He had personality PLUS. He was an Arabian gelding of Polish bloodlines, bred in Switzerland, foaled in New York state. He came to live with me at age 8. When my husband and I separated a few years later, I could not afford board for my mare and Markiz both at our separation, and since my ex expressed a desire to keep Markiz, we took him to board at farm in Greenville county while he fixed up his property for Markiz’s return. My ex ended up abandoning Markiz there at that farm, the owner of which managed to track down my whereabouts a couple of years later to see if I wanted him back because she could no longer afford to care for him since my husband had long since stopped paying for his board and care. Wilma and I went to Greenville a few days later to pick him up and I was able to enjoy him for several more years. He became a wonderful trail horse, I taught a couple of children to ride on Markiz, and many friends enjoyed riding him too. He had the personality of a lap dog, always playful with everyone and always flirty with pretty mares.

There are 2 words that strike terror in the heart of every horse owner: founder and colic. Founder is a condition that effects a horse’s hooves; colic effects the digestive system. The causes for both are many and varied…many horses survive, many more don’t. Me, my friends and family, my vet, and my farrier all fought valiantly for 3 months to try to save our beloved friend Markiz when he was stricken with founder on Labor Day of 2003. During his illness, I went to the barn every morning before work to clean and doctor his feet; came home for lunch every day to clean and doctor them again, to walk him and to make sure he drank something before I went back to work; again every evening when I got home from work, and again before going to bed around 11pm. I remember many a cold night walking with him in the arena in the moonlight, talking to him and singing to him as we walked. He really seemed comforted by that. One night we saw a shooting star that was so bright, it lit up the entire barn area like daylight before fading away. My wish of course, was for him to get well, but I was denied that wish.

I was not able to let Markiz go as long as he had fight in him, but in the end he was not able to overcome the devastating effects of that condition. When HE had given up, he let me know he was ready to rest, and I didn’t have the heart to force him to go on any further. We ended his suffering and laid him to rest on a cold winter day, December 21, 2003, in the cattle pasture of my good friends Wilma and Jack. 6 years later, remembering him, remembering that horrible 3 month nightmare, still makes me cry like a baby.

After his burial, Kendall and I took some flowers and laid them on his grave out there in Jack’s cow pasture, and we said our last goodbyes to our friend. It was almost as if Markiz was with us out there, assuring us that he was home and happy…that he wanted us to know he had loved us as we had loved him…to say thank you for trying so hard to restore his health, but that it was time now to say goodbye…time for him to go run and frolic with the horses of heaven. I created the portrait you see at the beginning of this post, in the days that followed our loss.

NOW we KNOW what Santa does in the off season…

Rising costs have affected us all. Apparently, even the North Pole is not exempt from the financial hardships of modern times. It was once speculated that Santa spent the off season basking in the warm Caribbean sun, but who can afford leisure and recreation in such perilous times as these?

I met this jolly old gentleman at a roadside produce stand tucked away on a winding mountain road on our way to Caesar’s Head State Park back in the fall. He kindly posed for several shots of himself and his goods – various and assorted homemade ciders, pickled goods and homegrown canned goods. The prices were a bit steep but who wouldn’t figure a donation to the Santa Claus enterprise to be a worthy cause? And if THIS ain’t Santa Claus, then Virginia…there really AIN’T no Santa Claus!

I have a thing for old antique trucks. I discovered this particular treasure in the spring of 2009 on a trip from South Carolina to Indiana with a good friend. We had stopped at a Quick Mart in North Carolina for a fill-up, a bathroom stop and some travel snacks and I spotted this truck parked in an abandoned parking lot across the road. Because of it’s positioning and proximity to the highway, I had difficulty getting every angle I would have liked, but I shot as many as I could.

After returning home and browsing through my shots from the trip, I wanted to do something nice with one of the several I got of Karen’s favorite overlook on Skyline Drive in her hometown of Seymore, Indiana. Only a couple were even acceptably good, but the best of those were still in the ’snapshot’ category…nothing really noteworthy.

Contemplating ways I might improve upon the mediocre scenic shots and somehow make at least ONE of them ’special,’ I started playing around with positioning some cuts of the NC truck (a FABULOUS subject trapped in the horrible background of an abandoned parking lot) and came up with the perfect picture. This turned out to be one of those pics that you can almost see yourself in…smell the grass, feel the summer breeze in your hair, hear the birds, FEEL the history in the presence of the old truck and the past it bears witness to.