Sunday, November 27, 2011

A Crooked Journey

On an unseasonably warm afternoon, the low wooden fence 
zig-zags through the woods, imitating the path of 
the creek as it twists it's way to the river.

It's late autumn and the leaves have fallen from the trees, 
leaving them bare against the leaden sky. 
The wooden shed has been left to the weather as well, 
it's color fading to gray, returning to the color 
of the bare trees it came from.


dive said...

Ooooh … very Andrew Wyeth!
You really know how to find beauty in what most people would simply see as bleak. These are lovely.

Speedway said...

Thank you, Dive. I kind of thought the trees were OK, but just tried to find a grouping that would work on its own. I don't like to crop much, if at all, because I'm lazy.

I do like your pictures of the nice, green arses on sculpture. Now I know why they're put in the middle of fountains - to avoid them being patted and caressed by every woman who walks by. If that were to happen they'd be green every where but their bums.

Genie -- Paris and Beyond said...

Great shot of the trees and the old fence with a bit of mystery. The wooden shed barely stands and does not provide much shelter from the elements, but it makes a gorgeous photo. Do you think that there was something written on the long side in large letters?


Speedway said...

Oh, Genie, sorry to not respond more quickly. The little shed and its farm are on a side road, so there'd be no signage. There aren't many barns around here anymore that have advertising, if at all. The last ones I recall are along I-70 and State Road 60 in Ohio, both advertising the state's sesquicentennial, now long past.