Monday, September 15, 2008

Today is Landscape day. Scapes of Indiana

I am thrilled to be entering our second week of challenges.

Now for my entries in Landscape.

First, where would we be without a depiction of agriculture in Indiana.
I've tried to make the picture a little more interesting by framing it a little bit.
I give you a nearly matured bean field across a stream ravine.




Next we have a little something that our "green" folks will cringe at, but many years ago, all farms across the state had one of these. It was where farmers took all their old implements to die, or in this case rust away. Who's to say all landscape should be appealing. It's a glimpse into what once was down on the farm.


The next entry is what I call the "End of the Day August 31st 2008". These were the final fleeting minutes of sunlight on the last day of August 2008. It was a beautiful sunset, the end to a wonderful day. The thought that this day will never be available to us again, made me stop and think about how wonderful and yet how sad the picture really was. Did we use that day wisely. Was it a date to remember, or just another one of those dates on a calendar that we will never remember.


The last entry for this theme, Landscape is a little morbid. With the last day or so being a bit gray, I had an idea for a grey landscape. Once I thought about the subject a little bit, I started to wonder about the images I really saw. I put a pen to paper and in the tone of "Flanders Fields", I've penned a little poem. It's not very good, but I hope that you feel and sense what I felt with this picture.


Cold, lay we here among the elm; silent 'cept for the lone bobwhite song.
Be we great leaders of industry or servent to man; in search of great wealth or tillers of land.
Be we married or single, husband or wife, our entire life are reduced to just these few lines:

"Devoted Father and Husband"
"Zachery St. John"
"Born 1836"
"Died December 15, 1901"
"May God Rest your soul." Amen

You'll not know my voice, or the look of my face;
whether I'm tall or I'm small or even my race.
My hopes and my dreams;
disappointments and despair.

Good man or bad it's all just the same;
to you I'm a stone on top of this hill,
I'm Zachery St. John
died nineteen hundred and one.


GC

3 comments:

Amy Kingman said...

Love the coupling of the poem! Takes photo week to a whole new level! There's something really amazing about old cemeteries. Lovely photos. :)

Steph said...

The cemetery photo is surprisingly serene. Nice pics!

Beth Carter said...

Wow Greg I never knew you to be a poet. Nice I like it and I love the pic to go with it. I almost took a picture of a cemetary as well. I guess this is going to be another week of thinking the same.