Panoramics

Shuffling through my vast collection of photos I found these panoramics that I am in love with.
The drama of the long views of the mountains here cannot adequately be captured (on film.) Hold your breath and look, that should help.
lg :-)

At Play...

Shrouded in white, the misty mountain peaks push their backs and their ridges through the low lying cloud formations, like hump-back canyon whale creatures on a cross country journey of some kind. It is a cool and a crisp, moderately bright February day. The (Appalachian) mountain tops are set adrift and they are rising, suspended, across the low lying expanse that opens up out in the canyon. Ridge after ridge fades off into the dusty blue horizon. Where do the cloud formations meet up with the vast blueness of the sky? The expanse is mystical, today; yes, there is something new at work, leaving the mountain tops to exist as tree-lined sleepy, giant islands.

[My dreaming takes me there, to the curling and the lifting place; to the place where the mist vapor holds and tugs at the solid base of each tree, and to the white blanketed forest--heavily draped in mountain's mist--shrouded in the fine, white, milk of silken-dull mist fingers. They are numb and yet--they hold tight. Today, they tug on the mountain's ridges. Yes, they hold them back (and down.) I have stumbled upon a game; the game of the push and the pull. Yes--it is the (mountain) mist's game today, and in her splendor she plain suits herself, as she is fancy up along the ridges and not the least bit ashamed. She lifts, rising in shafts and in columns, and she then fans herself out, spreading up and then up again--all the while dancing. The mist is at work here in a mindless kind of fashion, but for our sake (only) she plays out sweetly as she sings songs across these ol' mountain hills.]

Newness of Light

And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.

(John 1:5)

At the Water's Edge

At the water's edge, I have found a friend.
The rhythmic lapping of each wave
is a comfort--I have come to depend
upon the starlit water, upon the deep blue sky
and upon the tinkling waterfall as it
rushes, passing by.

Not Brand New

Not Brand New

It’s not brand new, but it suits me fine.

It was your granddad’s, son. Then, it was mine.

But now it’s from me and I give it to you.

It’s worn some, here--bad, but it still runs true.

Hey, it’s better than…a poke in the eye.

It runs in the family, that-- you cannot deny.

Time will tell, if it holds up good.

Those new-fangled things—I’ve never understood!

It’s time tested; it’s well broke in.

Look right here—it just needs one pin.

And a little tape, use this well-worn string--

It’ll be good as new, ’case you’re wondering…



© Karen Powell

Through...

Sunrise (Glorious!)

Through the Thicket...

Through the Pines...

Through the Window (Veil)

What do you see...
through your veil?
Today, sunrise "Glorious"
beckoned me to get up
and to
jump
out of bed--
and to apprehend these
(photos.)
What have you,
then?
:-)

Foggy, Creepy Day

Ahead...

A Bit Creepy...

Where Does the Road Go?

"You Want to Go Ahead...Are You Sure?"

Foggy, creepy day-
Fog won't go away...
It rests around the mountain, deep
As if into our bones, it seeps...
It curls upon the hills and weeps-
Foggy, creepy day.

Local Stained Glass Art Paired with...Haiku on "Giving"

Fist full of pennies

Heart holds dreams not yet made flesh

Your help my ladder.

Stark...

Stark, wooded, quiet...surround sound.
Nothing fancy here.