Abstract, Architecture, Art, Digital Image, forest, Landscape, Nature, Outdoors, photography, Photoshop, Seasons, trees

Daylight Shades of Midnight

Dark photograph of a home surrounded by Live Oak trees draped in Spanish Moss.

Where long strands of Spanish Moss drape a Live Oak forest in the deep south. It’s where water moccasins and alligators target prey, and generations upon generations of Cajun families raised their children and taught them to capture delicious seafood in nearby shallow bays and inlets.

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Abstract, Art, Digital Image, Everyday, forest, Landscape, Nature, Outdoors, photography, rivers, Seasons, Travel, Weather

Fish River

U.S. 98 bridge at the mouth of the Fish River just before it empties into Weeks Bay near Marion Springs, Alabama.A foggy afternoon with the camera pointed downstream on the Fish River from the pier at the National Estuarine Research Reserve Pitcher Plant Bog. Just beyond the bridge, fresh water from the river flows into the brackish Mobile Bay before emptying into the Gulf of Mexico.

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Art, Comment, Digital Image, History, nostalgia, Outdoor Sports, photography, Studio Photography, Writing

Revolver

A .357 magnum revolver in a leather holster with a belt of cartridges.I remember hunting whitetail deer with this .357 magnum many, many years ago. After two seasons of sitting in the snow, getting cold, bored and never seeing anything to shoot at, I gave up. Deer hunting was one of the least interesting activities in which I have ever engaged.  Retrospectly, I’m glad I never had the opportunity to kill a deer. While I’ve shot squirrels, rabbits, partridge and a few other small game animals, I never derived any great pleasure or satisfaction from the killing sports. On the other hand, I do remember some fine meals of rabbit stew, roasted partridge, and pheasant pie.

I still keep a collection of firearms, and even fire them occasionally – rarely, but only at paper targets. The cartridges in this holster belt have somewhat corroded and have over the years, undoubtedly, lost some of their explosive power. Soon, I will take them out, polish them up and replace them in those same loops, maybe tomorrow. In the meantime, the guns sit in a cabinet holding on to memories of times long past.

 

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