photo of the week

The Reluctant Autumn

Fall has not yet made up its mind to be fully present with earthy colors and crisp breezes.  Its puny effort so far has produced some ugly brown leaves and a lot of humidity.


Monday, November 2, 2015
Pine Buff, Arkansas

This time of year is like being twelve-and-a-half years old.  You are not quite a teenager — and you believe you are no longer a child.  I suppose under ordinary circumstances an early fall day is somewhat tolerable, but today was muggy, wet and gloomy.  All of which gave rise to my first thoughts.  The time is not summer, it’s not fall, and it’s not winter — and to top things off, the humidity is servable with a pancake flipper.


And They Think It's for Birds...

The bird/squirrel feeder looks forlorn.  It started out as a bird feeder.  The squirrels had a different idea of its utility.

Crummy Days Need Love, Too.

With that in mind, I decided that crummy days need love too, so I decided to look for the underbelly of fall.  The leaves aren’t as green, and a few are crummy brown.  The birds of spring are holed up.  The few flowers were knocked down by the recent rains.


Knocked Flat by the Rain

Some of our remaining flowers are still holding out, but these were slightly out of the cover of eaves, and were knocked flat by the most recent rain.

When I searched further I found a ray of light at a cemetery.  For a few moments, I was mingling with folks who do not complain about the weather.  Or anything else for that matter.


The Residents Aren't Whining.

I found a place where one hears no complaints about the weather.  Or anything else.

From there, I poked my nose under the Arkansas River Bridge on U.S. Highway 79, south of Pine Bluff, Arkansas.  Some serious flotsam had come to rest nearly under a bridge, as in a whole tree — including what was left of the root system.  I am presuming this is a result of the big-time flood on the river a few weeks back.


After the Flood

Our flooding of a few weeks back no doubt sent this tree to us.  If it was there during the flood, the tips of the limbs you see would have been well under water.


The Art of Nature

The old tree carcass made for some interesting lines, shadows, lights, shadows and shapes.

Sweet Jesus!

Cruising across the bridge, I found the remnants of an old church complete with a still readable sign, but only about five percent of its roof.

I wondered how many funeral home fans stirred up a slight breeze to the tune of “Onward Christian Soldiers.”

And how many times a well-meaning preacher used the words “and now in closing,” which — in the Baptist Churches where I was raised — meant that the sermon had fifteen minutes more to go (at a minimum).

And how many times the congregation sang all the verses of “Just As I Am” or “Only Trust Him” while the pastor and elders were looking for new converts.

And how many times the kids tried to sneak out before the invitation.


God's Handmaiden

The Delta is dotted with churches like this — or worse.  The congregation moved away and with it the funds to keep the building in useable condition.  So the former sanctuary is turned back to God’s Handmaiden, Mother Nature, who provides slow, but free demolition services

Last but not least, I saw a liquor-store-converted-to-a-residence with a brace of hand-lettered barrels admonishing visitors to “keep out.”  The family dog provided some sound effects to go along with the signs.


Who Shall Heed the Message?

I suspect the resident here has experienced people “shopping” his possessions and is fed up with it.  The sign barrels will keep honest folk out, but I doubt the ones he is targeting will pay much attention.

Having taken a gander at the bleakness of pseudo-fall, I am reminded that “not-to-worry” is the thought of the day.  Today, the ounce of dross.  Tomorrow, the ounce of gold....  So to speak.


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