For many reasons, I am too worn out to write tonight, Sunday night. So I'm thinking this will be another Silent Sunday except given that it isn't Sunday when this is posted, I'll call it Mute Monday.
I would, however, like to talk for a moment about this photograph. Rest assured, if I end up writing everything I have to say about it, you'll be
On the way home from West Point the other day, I turned down a road displaying a public landing sign. The great thing about public landings is I can't be accused of trespassing, and a water view is guaranteed. Also, I'd never been to this public landing before, so I was excited for a new adventure.
On the way there, I passed many, many photographicable sights. (Annie says that photographicable is a word, and I'm with her on that.)
The last hundred or so yards before I reached the landing involved a rather steep hill with high embankments on either side. This particular shed was on the left as I was going down the road towards the landing.
The tree on the right has bent itself around the shed to accommodate it. The tree is alive; the shed is dead.
The roof is clinging to what little bit of original color that it can. Weather and time are stripping away whatever color is left.
The boards are dull and gray, and Nature has stripped away some of the wood. Yet right outside of this are the bright yellow daffodils.
Yet another way of slicing and dicing this picture has to do with shapes. The dead portion--the shed--is very linear, while the living parts--the flowers, the trees the grasses--have curves and rounded shapes which are less harsh and stark.
In summary, I see the juxtaposition of life and death in this photo. Life and death coexist peacefully and beautifully here.
The philosophical portion of this post is now over. The rest of the story is as follows:
I opened my car door and got out to take this and a few other pictures. The car was idling on a very steep embankment that led to the public landing, which means there was water, and that water was known as the Piankatank River. Emergency brakes were invented for a purpose, and that purpose is to prevent cars from rolling down steep embankments towards rivers.
No cars, people or rivers were injured in the making of this post, and I'd like to remind folks that emergency brakes were invented for a purpose. In case you didn't hear that the first time.