My mother, Mary Hillhouse is turning 90 years old in April. Within the last 4 years, she has had hip and shoulder surgery and her planting days are gone. She no longer can work in her yard and tend to her flowers. Most of them are now gone due to the lack of love and care she showered on them for forty years. Many of these flowers were from her mother's cuttings Eloise McArthur Hillhouse as well as friends through the years. I didn't appreciate their splendor and beauty as I should have. They are now memories of times past. A time of country flower gardens that southern women like her and her mother and mother's mother generations loved to have in the spring living on the country roads of Cherokee County. I am grateful I have photographs of those precious flowers that will forever linger in my memory of my mom.
Nature and Landscape Photography, Photographic Journal of Biblical and Poetic Expressions
Pikes Peak
Saturday, March 17, 2018
A Wintery Heaven Beartooth Mountains
Snowy Mountains
By John Fletcher
Higher and still more high,
Palaces made for cloud,
Above the dingy city-roofs
Blue-white like angels with broad wings,
Pillars of the sky at rest
The mountains from the great plateau
Uprise.
But the world heeds them not;
They have been here now for too long a time.
The world makes war on them,
Tunnels their granite cliffs,
Splits down their shining sides,
Plasters their cliffs with soap-advertisements,
Destroys the lonely fragments of their peace.
Vaster and still more vast,
Peak after peak, pile after pile,
Wilderness still untamed,
To which the future is as was the past,
Barrier spread by Gods,
Sunning their shining foreheads,
Barrier broken down by those who do not need
The joy of time-resisting storm-worn stone,
The mountains swing along
The south horizon of the sky;
Welcoming with wide floors of blue-green ice
The mists that dance and drive before the sun.
Palaces made for cloud,
Above the dingy city-roofs
Blue-white like angels with broad wings,
Pillars of the sky at rest
The mountains from the great plateau
Uprise.
But the world heeds them not;
They have been here now for too long a time.
The world makes war on them,
Tunnels their granite cliffs,
Splits down their shining sides,
Plasters their cliffs with soap-advertisements,
Destroys the lonely fragments of their peace.
Vaster and still more vast,
Peak after peak, pile after pile,
Wilderness still untamed,
To which the future is as was the past,
Barrier spread by Gods,
Sunning their shining foreheads,
Barrier broken down by those who do not need
The joy of time-resisting storm-worn stone,
The mountains swing along
The south horizon of the sky;
Welcoming with wide floors of blue-green ice
The mists that dance and drive before the sun.
John Fletcher (1886-)1950), is an American writer, was recognized as an influencial force with the Imagist, Modernism and the Agrarian Movements. His varied interests were reflected in his ownership of over 1,700 volumes, which are housed in the John Gould Fletcher Library in Little Rock, Arkansas.
Lake Creek Falls Bridge
Lake Creek Falls Bridge is located approximately 1 1/2 miles east of the Beartooth Highway's junction with the Chief Joseph Scenic Byway. Lake Creek Bridge is one of the few remaining structures of the original road across the Beartooth Plateau.
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
Monday, February 26, 2018
Thursday, February 8, 2018
Tuesday, January 2, 2018
New Year's Resolution - Return to Cades Code
My New Year's Resolution is to return to the Smoky Mountains in spring and again in early November. We may catch the first snow fall of the winter season like we did on this trip. We also drove in rain and sleet and the main road was closed due to snow and ice. It was an adventure of breathtaking beauty and I will do it again and again. I consider the Smoky Mountains as my home away from home. It is were my ancestors dwell for hundreds of years. I can feel the spirits of native Americans in these woods, mountains and streams.
Sunday, December 31, 2017
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)