“Beyond” always has a quality of mystery to me. What is beyond there–there where I can see? What am I not seeing? And what calls me to the emptiness of places.
This photo, at first glance, is a simple one. A Kansas fence, a field, open space. Only the “open space” is history and legend. My family migrated in covered wagons across those hills into Kansas. The century-old hedge posts came later along with the barbed wire.
Perhaps it’s because my family on both sides were pioneers, and perhaps because I read too many Zane Grey novels; but I can imagine smoke on the horizon and Native Americans watching from the edge of a rise.
My great-grandfather’s mother, Lucinda Moore, had five husbands all told by the time she traveled from New Salem, N.C. to Jewell County, Kansas. The date of her arrival in Jewell County with the final husband, Moore, coincided with the year of the last Indian raid in that rolling country bordering Nebraska–Nebraska only ten miles away on the horizon from where this photo was taken, south of Highway 36 and north of Barnes, Kansas.
“Wrong” is a word I rarely use, it’s so…well, judgmental for one and so dependent on perspective for another. So how to depict “wrong.” That of course is the photo challenge.
The little guy below isn’t wrong, but my understanding certainly was. We passed him at the mouth of an alley in Old Town San Diego, and at first, I thought he was mechanical and playing the keyboard, but no, I was wrong. He wasn’t playing at all and it wasn’t a keyboard, only a recording coming out of the keyboard. But whatever it was, it got people to noticing the shop behind (see giraffe) which sold all sorts of interesting and novel creations. So that part was “right.”
Maybe that the thing about wrong and right; two words on different sides of the same coin (the coin we use to pay for trinkets!).
We’re not having winter this year. Well, of course, in the technical sense we are and have passed Winter Solstice and entered January so yes, we are having winter. However, yesterday’s temperature was in the 60s so if you live where we live, that’s hardly winter weather.
However, most would agree, in this Kansas City city, that last years winter was quite enough thank you. So here’s photos from a year ago which are filled with snow. I actually felt sorry for St. Francis who sits in our garden, welcoming the animals, but he seemed quite content, protecting the bird in his hand from the cold snow.
St Francis and the snow bird
And with this post, I’ve reached the milestone of 200 posts published.
What I remember best about last Christmas is the family sitting around our long dining room table, playing poker. The plastic poker chips against tapestry angels and Merry Christmas lettering make me laugh.