To Fairy Lane

Today was the longest route I read, starting on Price Creek and finishing on Pounds Hammock.
With the new directive that says we no longer have to read meters with dogs on the premise, my meter reads were cut in half. Thus, there was time to go somewhat slower, finishing easily by noon.
One of the favorite paths leads to Leo Horne's residence. His wife is the Supervisor of Elections, Liz Horne. I will miss traveling early in the morning down the dirt lane, where deer are often grazing under the mature live oaks.

Wait Patiently

Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him.
Psalms xxxvii.7

Ah, soul, wilt thou be the foolish boy in the house of thy Father, loving thy Father if He fondle thee, and murmuring against Him if He scourgeth thee, as if He were not, both when fondling and when scourging, preparing thee for thine inheritance?
St.Augustine
As a crow flieth, so have I sought the blessing by taking the path of least resistance lately.
Like JG Wentworth I scream, I want my inheritance, and I want it now!
The evening before last, I was on the housetop photographing the rising moon. I made this prayer, Lord, if I am to have a job where Melanie does not have to work, let an airplane intersect the moon by 9:30. I waited and waited, and come 9:29, from the distant North to South, a blinking light, making its way toward the moon. I readied the camera, made sure of the setting, focused and waited in anticipation. The airplane came within a narrow margin under the moon, but not through it.
It was as if God was saying, I heard you, but that is not the manner in which I am going to send the inheritance. It is in my timing. I could cause all the airplanes in the heavens to intersect the moon if I needed.
And so singing over and over and over again, like the jingle from Frosty Morn Sausage, I must learn to not be a foolish boy in the house of my Father.

Be Strong

Thou, therefore, my son, be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus.
2 Tim.2.1

The way to grow strong in Christ is to become weak in yourself. God poureth no power into man's heart till man's power is all poured out.
Spurgeon

Yesterday we had the joy of beholding and holding in our arms, little Carson Powers, born about 10:40 on Tuesday evening by C-Section to Allison, my sister Paula's first girl.
As we held him, pouring our love and prayer into him, he illustrated perfectly the weakness of the flesh and the need for the grace of God. And I held Carson, my heart was aching for him, Pearce and Nathaniel.
It took me back to the holding for the first time of Landon, then Jordon, then Allison, Jessica and how my heart ached for them then, and continues now.
Would as a father, like our Heavenly Father, I could take them into my arms continually and give to them all the things necessary in this life to get them through. But for now, what I can offer is continual prayer
for a Loving God to bestow mercy, grace and a drawing unto Him continually.

By His Son

God hath in these last days spoken unto us by His Son.
Hebrews i.2
Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.
I Sam.iii.9

The best will is our Father's will;
And we may rest there calm and still;
Oh, make it hour by hour thy own,
And wish for naught but that alone
Which pleases God.
Paul Gerhardt.
The simplicity of the Son. The one thing needful. The call to forsake all for that pearl of great price. Life is a paring down, a boiling down process, of casting aside weights that encumber our journey toward the purity found in Holiness.
Be still and know. Many things are picked up and twisted round and round in the whirlwind. If through the tumult, we can hold to the One, soon all about in the aftermath is revealed the things we held dear, damaged beyond repair.
It is a difficult lesson, to lose all in order to gain that one thing really needful.
But, worth the price of the whirlwind.

Goodbye Blue Sky

Once the people prayed
While high above fell the spray
Now under a man-made cloud
Children unfold the burial shroud
"Look mummy
There's an aeroplane up in sky"
Today mummy
How then do we die?

Thousand Words

 

If a picture is worth a thousand words

What would a thousand words be worth?

If I was paid for every word I wrote

How rich do you think I would be?

If I was paid for every photograph I took

Would I be any richer for it?

Better yet, if I was paid for every thought

Do you think I would be any richer

Than if I never thought at all?

But back to the thousand words

What makes a picture worth so much?

I do not think I have ever taken

A picture worth a thousand words.

And by the same token

I do not think I have ever spoke a

thousand words about any picture

Painting,etching,drawing,photograph included

Mostly we give a picture at most

a one liner

For who would bear to stand and read

a thousand words of description

about a photograph, a painting, an etching,

a drawing?

The photograph featured was taken from the automobile
doing about fifty miles per hour on a Sunday morning.
It was overcast and the camera was set on a shutter speed
of 2000 from the previous day.
When I saw the two cyclists approaching, with Melanie
driving, I quickly took the Nikon D5000 camera
with the 18-200 zoom attached and took four photographs.
This was the first photograph taken.
It was terribly under exposed due to the 2000 shutter speed set on shutter priority.
I used the active D-lighting function in camera to try and
lighten the scene.
It stayed under exposed until I manipulated it in Picasa
on the computer. I made it a black and white image with
focal color only on the riders jerseys.
And so you see why a picture can sometimes be worth a thousand words
I am not even at five hundred words and if you
are still reading
You are one that takes greater interest in words than in pictures
which perhaps is a good thing
for in the imagination comes the most vivid images
and even though the photograph thinks it speaks a thousand words
Those thousand words can be words of great deception
Just in the same manner I manipulated this image to death
to get an usable image.
But by the time I reached a thousand words, I would hope that
 you would discern the truth from the error,
That is unless I deliberately wrote to deceive
A common thing these days
Adept we are at deceiving
So in conclusion, I think it best to simply not try and place a value upon everything
As if our placing a value makes it valuable
The photograph is valuable in that it was created
as a reflection of its creator
an affirmation that we are valuable in that
we too are created
and not just a bunch of random molecules
every little atom from the hand of
God.

This day

This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears.
Luke iv.21
Every day and every night speak the goodness of God, and when they have finished their testimony, leave it to the next day and night to say the same.
Matthew Henry

Sunday at Christ's Fellowship we sang the old hymn, Blessed Assurance. "This is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior, all the day long". I must confess that is not always the case. Intruding into that testimony of praise and goodness are long silent pauses, uncomfortable pauses as when on a phone with someone who does not know how to keep the conversation flowing.
I am silent in my sin, in my self-absorption, silent in any number of distractions. Interspersed within the silence come bits of praise and thanksgiving. Small attempts to praise a Sovereign God.
Constant though, in the silence, is the underlying, ongoing prayer for mercy.
For grace.
For myself
For loved ones
for the world

Of Thy Pleasures

Thou shalt make them drink of the river of Thy pleasures.
Psalm xxxvi.8.

Infinite the ocean joy,
Opening to His children's view;
Infinite their varied treasure,
Meted not by mortal measure,
Holy knowledge, holy pleasure,
Through eternity's great leisure,
Like it's praises, ever new.
Frances Ridley Havergal

God in His wisdom has given us gem of rivers like the Itchetucknee as a vivid picture of His spiritual river of His pleasures. I cannot begin to comprehend what the River of Life shall be like, or the River of living waters flowing from the throne. I can drift down this clear,cool river as in a state of suspension above a world of grass,trout,bass,alligators, turtles and otter in wonder. I am drawn to these waters the same as I am by the Holy Spirit drawn to Christ, to know His righteousness, to be cleansed from my sins, to soothe my troubled soul that pines for Him.

Trackless trains

I've never been asked about the poetry
Though every word I wrote rhymed
They never asked at which University
Did you spend your time?
Composing the poems you did
Its like all the while
Nothing penned was ever read
As if to say
Here are tracks
But upon them
No train
Ever
sped.
I've never been asked about the photography
Though every thing was recorded
They never asked in which Laboratory
Did you develop the prints?
Taking the photographs you did
As if to say
Here is a train
But upon
these tracks
it never
came.

Kill me with their Love

In the movie the Green Mile, John Coffey tells Paul Edgecomb(Tom Hanks) that Wild Bill  Wharton killed the two little girls with their love for one another.
At times, I feel that as a grandpa, I am being "killed" by my love for two very special little children, Nathaniel and Ava.

When A Grown Child Dies

by Aurelia D.Wallace

After the Black Death, after
Lister, after doctors learned
To wash their hands
---Began to hope
The bloodied spawn might live,
Might starve, for once, the empty plots
In family graveyards
(Birth ten, get four
if you are lucky)
The natural extravagance
of evolution
---Kept on hoping
After polio, after Salk,
After Spock, Gesell, and Gerber,
How better it would be,
A queer economy,
If babies lived
---When my turn
Came, given the laws of probability,
(Buy one, get one free)
---Came to expect
Him to live to grown,
Marry, produce his own,
Bury his mama and daddy
Instead of babies
Under the family's whited stones
---But when
grown child dies...
B

The General's wife

The Union and Confederates were in the cemetery at Olustee paying tribute in a service to those who made the sacrifice of their lives here 149 years ago. I stood over by the fence with General Todd Jesse's wife Helen Case Jesse and the General's attendant of the horses, James Rourks.
The General's wife was of fiery red hair and beautiful blue eyes, an appearance befitting a General's wife.
She was most kind and gentle to Beauregard, the General's horse. I was honored to capture the moment.

Ruined from behind

 f
This is a fine example of how intrusion into your background can ruin a photograph. I was busy concentrating on the expressions and position of the three and failed to notice the spectator
peering into the scene. I suppose he could be blurred out, but best to be aware of ones background and avoid him all together.

ask,askance,glance

Awaiting the mustering of the Confederates to march to the battle on Sunday, I enjoyed photographing these young people selling period garments. There was another fellow in other photographs, but this triangle was my favorite, plus there was a background free of spectators.

Thine hands unto

Thou shalt rejoice before the Lord thy God, in all that thou puttest thine hands unto.---
Deut. 12:18

Christ, when He blesses, blesses not in word only, but in deed. The lips of truth cannot promise more than the hands of love will surely give.
Spurgeon

When I was young at my grandmothers steep yard in West Virginia, it was a pleasure to mow the soft bluegrass with her reel mower.
When I was older and we moved to Florida, it was pure drudgery to mow the hard bahia grass with the reel mower.
Same blades but very different results. I liken the Bluegrass to a life where Christ both blesses in word and in deed. Even upon hills, the cutting is a joy.
When one works in his own effort, apart from the proper tool, (the spirit), toil and sorrow ensue.

Into Olustee Shadow

Is it actually essential to carry the sharpest lenses and the latest gear? When I returned from the Sunday Battle of Olustee 37th re-enactment of the 149th year after the actual Battle, the photographs that piqued me the most were those I had deliberately blurred and panned slowly. It evokes more of a sense of the time to me. I did not take enough of this type as I should have.
For the 150th next year, I hope to concentrate half of my exposures to the ethereal and mysterious.
 

Consider Him

Consider Him.
Hebrews 12:13

Believer, who art weary and disheartened because of the roughness of the way, look at the Master's footsteps, and see how He suffered.
Spurgeon

I must constantly remind myself, my path compared is primrose strewn and soft with pine needles.
What gives me the audacity to go about in a state of sorrow and pity for my minor scratches?
Could it not be the enemies tactic to sideline us in our own misery?
I think so.
Morning by morning I rise and cast away the pity, the woe is me countenance I so love to parade.
And so again today,
I consider Him.

Alligator Day

In the latter afternoon, knowing a front was moving in, I went out to Alligator Park to see what developed. Went on foot with the vest, the D40 with the manual 180mm and 2x extender, plus the Canon S100 and iphone4. I had hoped to see the White Pelicans but I assume the fishing was not to their liking, or they were on the deeper Southern side of the lake.
I was able to capture the two alligators in a one minute video that was uploaded to Utube within minutes after filming. That is what I want in a camera, which is there.
In all, a few promising shots that I later worked in the computer with the HDR setting.
Going more for the graphic look.

Cross Crow

This reminds me of Rev Whitney Dough, an old time Methodist preacher that had a talking crow.
He wrote a book about his adventures with that crow. I thought in our day and age of whacky so-called in the name of Christ things we do, why not an amazing crow. Whitney Dough I am sure would approve.

Fruits of righteousness

 

The fruit of righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace.
James 3:18

The way of peace we cannot know till we find our peace, where our immortal aspirations place it, in the fulness and the friendly eternity of God.
Bushnell

We carry about sack loads of our sorrows, our ill wills, our pride, our vanities all in the name of our own self-righteousness. And we wonder why there is no peace, no peace. Why things just never work as planned, why the constant sadness, despair and sense of foreboding.
We have failed to place the seed sack upon the back of the sower, the only one able to
make fruit from all our vain attempts.
No good thing comes from us. It all must come from the hand of the friendly, eternal God.    

In my infirmities

More gladly, therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
2 Corin. 12:9

Work in me, Lord; I would labor
In Thy vineyard for a while,
Thou my feeble faith rewarding
With the bounty of Thy smile.
Work in me.
Anna Shipton.

Gus was shot twenty-two years ago, leaving him paralyzed in a wheel-chair.
He lost both legs due to gangrene setting in.
He lives in a tiny, ramshackle home just North of the tracks.
Daily a caregiver comes to clean and bring food.
And through all the infirmities, still I look forward to his
infectious smile and good cheer.


Anna Shipton(1815-1901)was an English religious writer who, from a relatively early age, wrote essays on Christianity.
"Fellowship with Jesus lies not alone in pleasurable emotions; you must learn it in suffering and in service."

Koonville Road

Today I read for the first time the first sixty-four meters on Koonville Road, from Pinemount Road to Archie Glen Road where Pastor Russell lives. Along the way, first I came to Janice's house. She and I used to work at JCPenney over ten years ago. She was in the process of foreclosure and not sure where she was going to live. Her daughter, who lives next door in a trailer was not going to let them live with her.  I then came to the place where Tommy Browning lived or at least had a cabin. He recently passed away. On his porch was the old bear skin and the rockers.Sad times. Next I came to the home of Adron and Clara Jones. When Landon and Jordon were little, I would take them to their place to fish in the pond.in the back yard. Clara also worked at JCPenney with me in the stockroom. They travel and have purchased a placed in Sylva, North Carolina where they spend several months in the summer each year. Happy times.
Finally, I came to the Andrews place just as Brain Andrews was leaving. He was heading for Olustee to set up camp. He re-enacts. His father Steve had copied me some Bobby Horton Civil War Songs several weeks ago and I was able to get them, after talking awhile with Cindy, Steve's wife.
Good timing.

Charity

Charity suffereth long and is kind. I Corin. 13:4.

Kind words are the music of the world. They have a power which seems to be beyond natural causes.
Faber.

Mrs Hamilton, the mother of David Hamilton, has sold her home in Texas and moved in with her son. Mrs. Hamilton is well into her nineties and has lost much of her vision. She depends upon the sound of our voices to recognize who she speaks with. Her words are full of kindness and she expresses her appreciation each Sunday for taking the time to speak with her, to make her feel welcome.
Like my mother, she as well never has an unkind word for any person. Both Mrs Hamilton and my mother are rare treasures.

Alligator Cardinal

Cardinal on the Alligator Lake Park trail.

Rossi Road

Riding the bike back from the college entrance road on US90, a ten mile ride, I stopped for a sunset shot, using my magic sunglasses filter over the Canon S100.

Owen Ware

The old wash tub on the shed of former Sheriff Owens home on Vickers Terrace in downtown Lake City.