Walkies With George

Come take a walk with George and me as we head out from the deck one fine May morning, down Beersville Road, and back around the meadow where we meet up with Ralph and Alice the pair of wild mallards who’ve come to visit us every spring since I got here.

Although it was still officially Spring, it just seemed like Janis Joplin’s live version of Summertime with Big Brother & The Holding Company was the perfect music to serenade us as we enjoyed the freshness and lushness of life in Happy Hollow. Continue reading

Stand in the Place Where You Live

As long as we’re dreaming of warmer and more colorful seasons…let’s enjoy midsummer in the meadow at Happy Hollow (a few years back). My beloved Rocky makes a few cameos.

I went out in the morning and shot the first batch, then again at high noon. Features a couple attempts at a 360° panorama.

Stand by R.E.M. was actually running through my head as I stood there turning around and shooting…before I even came up with the idea of a video. Continue reading

When Springtime Comes Again

Spring in Happy Hollow. Oh how I long for thee!

As winter drags on, it’s always nice to have some images of reawakening and rebirth, to call forth the sense memories of the warmth, sunshine, bright colors, and fresh smells of Spring. To help the winter weary soul look forward with impatient anticipation to the glory of another May in Happy Hollow. Continue reading

Being Here

While walking with George, my too excited puppy, this morning as we crossed the creek, the big blue heron who often visits early to fish in the various ponds on the property and who was hiding unobserved behind the new spring leaves on the bushes along the water, suddenly lifted off and took off elegantly and gracefully into the sky. That is always a good omen and an exhilarating moment.

As I walk in the morning like that, I often regress deeply into childlike wonder and awareness. The words that escaped my lips at that moment were “Look, there goes Billy the Blue” and the big bird was christened after one of my dearest friends, a pilot who also shares those skies. Continue reading

A Special Morning

Daddy awoke just after dawn. Slipping quietly out of their bed so as not to disturb his precious beloved, he dressed and made his way downstairs. George, their happy mutt still slept as well on his bed downstairs, thankfully. Had he noticed the usual sounds of daddy getting dressed for the day he’d have been running up and down the stairs making a hell of a racket. Daddy clipped on his leash and whispered, “come on buddy lets go for a walk.”

Down the steps of the deck they went, up the gravel road to the barn as fingers of light from the rising sun danced around them. Turning into the barnyard, he grabbed a pair of rusted old clippers from the fence post where he’d absently left them a few days earlier. Continue reading

February

The little pear tree in the middle of the meadow looks so tiny, small and lonely in the sea of white snow which now buries its trunk up to its lowest branches. Out in the barn tiny mice are hidden away in nests of cardboard shreds and rope fibers and string and strips of fabric pulled from old rags and carefully constructed inside idle old farm equipment and wherever they think they can stay warm and safe for the winter. The hungry feral barn cats survive by sniffing them out for a meal, if they can, or venture up to the old log cabin where they know they will find a bowl of cat food left out for them on the back deck. They must summon up their bravery, or have their fear overcome by hunger, to sneak up there through the deep snow, for if they aren’t careful and stealthy, George, the dog at the cabin, will sound the alert if he hears them on the deck late at night. Then all hell will explode and wake the whole house as he jumps off the warm crowded bed to jump against the thick glass of the back doors making all the noise he can manage. Continue reading