Pictures from the past!

Anyone who is familiar with my blog knows that I am a seasoned traveller on the well worn paths of Memory Lane. I have never in my life been "wordless" so the whole concept of Wordless Wednesday's is a little lost on me. Nonetheless, I am feeling very lazy today. I have a few dozen ideas for blog topics but just cant muster the energy to commit them to paper (so to speak).

So...here are some of my old pics... with a few words to go with them....

As proof that I did indeed date one or two rednecks in my day....

This photo taken on a rainy day looking outwards from the cab of a big ol' jacked up Ford. The sound of the rain drops hitting the roof top, the smell of sawdust, diesel and the unmistakable scent of man, a 22 pressed wedged against the seat and country music humming away in the background...little of that memory has been lost to time.

I have always loved this picture. I took it on a beautiful summer day inside the hay loft of the barn I boarded at when I was about 16. I remember the heat and the dust, the way the light came through the wooden slats and fell in yellow bands across the floor. I love the character of wooden barns, well weathered and warped with time. The smell of mice, old hay and the musky scent of mold. Something about this photo captured the essence of that old barn, locking a whole gauntlet of senses into a single image.

I have always had an affinity for Keep Out signs. I cant explain why. They speak to my rebellious streak, whispering their dares in my ear.... "Come on in!", they say. "We wont tell! You know you waaaant too!" While I am respectful of person and property by nature, I will admit to trespassing a time or two in my early days though I am by no means a thrill seeker. If I am going to be honest, I will also tell you that the sign in this picture came home with me and hung on my wall for a time. A rebel without a cause, I know!

All I remember about the day I took this photo was being freakin cold. Up until then, I wanted to work for National Geographic. But after freezing my ass off during one season as a self proclaimed photographer, and then damn near dying of heat stroke the next, I decided that being a corespondent for a Spa's and Retirement Destination magazines was a much smarter move. I am still waiting for the call back on that particular job.

Before I hung up my camera strap, I did snap one more winter shot. This is one of my favorite horses of all time, Rooster. This big red roan Quarter horse gelding was my dream horse and just happened to be the personal rope horse for a particular cowboy that I had my sights set on. I still have a soft spot for roans because of this sweet boy. Even though this photo is really too dark, I like that it caught the shape and impression of Rooster, his breath, and the snow capped ground.

The sweet sense of nostalgia I get by looking at these photos might be best summarized by their subjects. Horses, barns, pick ups and the rebellious thrills of my youth.