Return to Stone Mountian, NC

Daniel and I decided to go climb in the rain yesterday. The clouds were heavy and broken and despite the low cover, visibility was great. We went and hiked about 3 years ago through the valley looking up at the mountain, this time we went to the summit. If you ever have an afternoon available, this hike is a must. It will wear you out, so eat your Wheaties before you go.

Previous post on Stone Mountain.

Stone Mountain State Park.

The Ragged Old House

I found this amazing and haunting old place out in Yadkin County, NC. I loved everything about it. Boy, if walls could talk.

The Ragged Old House
By: Sally Roberts

---

As I passed by that ragged old house

The shingles all rotten and battered,
Most of the windows were still in their places
But some were all broken and shattered.

As I looked longingly at the old house
A tear had formed in my eye,
No one lives there no more the old house is empty
And then I began to cry.

The owners moved out a long time ago,
And the old house is there all alone.
The grass is all dead the porch broken down
And the weeds, oh how they have grown.

I walked to the porch then opened the door
It's hinges were old and rusty,
Some cobwebs were hanging up high on the walls
And the room was all dirty and dusty.

The curtains were torn the pictures all crooked
The mattresses were old and rotten,
There were memories in this old house
Memories that were somehow forgotten.

This house that is ragged battered and worn
And its hinges all rusted and old,
Belonged to my Grandma and Grandpa back then
This ragged old house I was told.

Random Field

I had about one hour to drive around and look for places that stirred my soul. Oddly, this field was squawk dab between a budding mega-church and a housing development. It seemed that if you could shut off the noise of traffic and walk across it hearing only the breeze, the crunch of the dry grass below your feet and the frenetic chirping of the birds hiding in the small grove of trees, it could drop your blood pressure by about 25%. It was enough to spend a few minutes thinking about it and photographing it to help my pressure some. Scenes like this offering us a chance to decompress are becoming too few.

Wind energy ain't nothin new 'round here.

THE WINDMILL

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Behold! a giant am I!
Aloft here in my tower,
With my granite jaws I devour
The maize, and the wheat, and the rye,
And grind them into flour.

I look down over the farms;
In the fields of grain I see
The harvest that is to be,
And I fling to the air my arms,
For I know it is all for me.

I hear the sound of flails
Far off, from the threshing-floors
In barns, with their open doors,
And the wind, the wind in my sails,
Louder and louder roars.

I stand here in my place,
With my foot on the rock below,
And whichever way it may blow
I meet it face to face,
As a brave man meets his foe.

And while we wrestle and strive
My master, the miller, stands
And feeds me with his hands;
For he knows who makes him thrive,
Who makes him lord of lands.

On Sundays I take my rest;
Church-going bells begin
Their low, melodious din;
I cross my arms on my breast,
And all is peace within.