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Frost in the Air
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Photographer's Note |
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Let's hear from the eggs-pert first... Hoar-frost first turns up in written English in 1290 as hore frost. Strictly speaking, hoar-frost is the kind of frost that turns everything it forms upon white or gray. Due to the fact that hair turns gray with age, things that are white or gray are often associated with old age and this is the original sense of hoar. Old English har and Old High German her both meant "old" or, as a secondary meaning, "venerable, august". ------------------------------------------------- How do ya' like them apples? God gave us folks in the wilderness mountains...... days like this to make sense of an otherwise harsh winter. So many days when we could only venture so far with our old rig, whose heater was slowly dying the longer we lived in these rugged mountains. And it was such a day when it was a clear night, having had an Aurora the previous night due to ultimate clearing of the sky, early predawn morning brought us fog, which turned the trees at certain levels into frames of beauty. The trees are a blend of white and red fir, with pine, cedar, tamarack and aspen. The apparent road was actually my closest neighbors driveway. You think it is beautiful now but wait until January when even the owner can't find the road under 4 feet of frozen snow. It is quite the experience. Really...I wouldn't josh ya'. This was the real deal and so many folks who grew up reading Mother Earth News found that nature can be much more tenacious and harsh than any machine they bring in. This country belongs to nature and one day totally to nature it shall return. I have bequeathed my photos as a memory of what fortune a man can live, but only for so long before he is totally overtaken by forces which he can only observe. And I fought to retain my land from the government, but I knew immediately it was useless as a fight and truly this didn't belong to any one person...but to all which his why I chose TN to share it with. Time it was, and what a time it was, it was A time of innocence, a time of confidences Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you -Paul Simon |
