My little slice of the web

Novemebr 2010 - Travels with Charlie

Website: http://charlie.zenfolio.com/

Novembers Photographer of the month is Charlie. His site Travels with Charlie is full of outstanding photography. I am proud to feature him this month, its story time.

Fall Memories

It has been a rather busy month, trying to get ready for the coming winter. There is wood to chop, food to can, leaves to rake. We had been getting all of the hay bailed and put away in the barn before it rains and molds. We still have to get all the farming equipment winterized and ready to ride out the cold snowy months.

I took a ride with mom in to town to get some food supplies, as always this time of the year it was time for my new winter coat and warm boots. I love this time of year for all the colors that arrive in the forests around our country side, I also love picking out a new coat and boots. I like the way a new coat feels when you put it on, you swear you will not get any holes in it or leave it laying on the ground somewhere. New boots are always so warm and comfortable, those and a new coat make you feel like winters cold will never touch you and you dare it to try.


The Road Home
The road back from town passes by a forest of aspen trees, then crosses over a small river that I named Fog River. I always enjoyed this part of the year as the aspens would turn yellow and gold. The trees grew over the road like a tunnel and always sparked my imagination as we passed through. This day for some reason I was specially susceptible to letting my mind take trips back in time, a time of daydreams and fantasy worlds. The tunnel of trees was the doorway in my mind leading to the wonderful land of Aspland.

This magical place was always bathed in the morning sunlight, which would light up the yellow and gold aspen leaves and cast the forest in the most beautiful soft light. The mist would hang low in the trees allowing the sun to cast long rays of light through the trees. You can stand in a ray of light and feel the warmth of the sun on your face, it was just enough to push away the surrounding cold.

The Majical River
I would sometimes just sit down on a stump and just listen to the sounds of the forest while I let the sun warm me. I could hear the trickle of the water from Fog River, a fish jumps trying to catch some early morning bugs flying across the water. A raven caws, pausing to hear an answer in return, a leaf falls and lands on the ground next to me. A lizard scurries across the leaves in a hurry to climb up and hang on a tree to do his morning pushups. I suddenly hear leaves crackling under the foot of something large, I turn to catch the hint of something white running out of the forest. I smile, I know that it was my old friend Quanto beckoning me to follow. I run to the edge of the forest to see the white stallion standing in a clearing, waiting for me to take a ride. One of our favorite things, is to run along the sandy shallows of Fog River. The wind in my hair, the power of the stallion in a full run, water splashing all around, frogs jumping from their perches. Mom always wondered why I would come home wet, I wold tell her that I tripped or that I was catching frogs.

Dividing Line
Quanto and I would ride all over Aspland, from Fog River to the Fence of Yonland. A thick forest lies beyond the fence, said to be full of unspoken dangers. Legend has it that the forest itself is alive, you can hear the forest peak your name as you approach. Ghostly faces can be seen in the trees, starring and watching. Strange noises can be heard, not loud sounds, but chilling sounds that raise the hair on your neck. The trees at the edge of the forest are beautiful and inviting, but just beyond it seems as if light itself is held captive by the dark.

It was rumored that long ago, guards were posted along the fence to warn people of the dangers. The lure of the forest would overwhelm even the most hardy of men and they would be enticed into the forest never to bee seen or heard from again. All that keeps one from venturing too close, is the stories passed down to the next generation.

the portal
Mounted on the back of Quanto and feeling rather exhilarated from our run through the river and the forest, we both pause to catch our breath and look upon the beautiful but foreboding Yonland forest. I see something moving just beyond the edge of the trees, it appears to be coming out of the woods.....MOM.... is that you MOM....its me son, come to me she says. How did you get in there, what are you doing I yell. She turns and heads back in to the forest calling me to come to her, I kick Qanto into a full run heading straight for the fence. I hear the voice again, calling for me to come to her. I grab ahold of Quanto’s mane just as he leaps over the fence......darkness falls upon me, I cant see anything...MOM....a few seconds later I hear her saying..Son....Son, I see light and its getting brighter and brighter... we are home son... wake up, don’t forget your coat and boots.

Charlie has some very, very nice photography. I am especially drawn to his gallery called Pictures from a Symposium. I love the use of the elements in the desert to add interest to the shots. The texture of the clouds adds an exiting dimension. Charlie, I am glad you have returned to your old love and found the passion in her light again. You have inspired me, for that I thank you.

Thank you again,

Thats all for now.. God Bless.