In the small county (and I say this in relation only to population, not geographic size) in which I reside, there sits a park just on the outskirts of town. They call it the fairgrounds.
A large portion of the fairgrounds were (or perhaps still are) dedicated to a Frisbee golf course. Tucked away behind ditches, brambles, and an unkempt mass of thin, dead trees, various signs led visitors through the woods and explained to them the current hole they were on. Somewhere, nailed to some twisting, gnarled piece of nature or standing wearily on its rusting pole, was a metal net, to catch your flying plastic disk.
These days, no one plays Frisbee golf, though most likely they never did. Not here, any way. The markers and nets lay forgotten on either side of the narrow footpath the snakes its way through the park, visible to those that know they are there, but unheeded. The signs have succumbed to the many scorching summer suns, and each net only catches the breeze, shaking its chains for no one to hear.
Much of the park follows this theme. Either we were there on an off season, or its simply been left to its fate. Upon careful inspection you can tell that once, long ago, this had been a place where the community gathered to celebrate as a whole. And though it is still a place widely used by the locals, nature has crept slowly outward and has begin to reclaim this patch of land.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Oak Tree
Monday, February 23, 2009
Faintly
Samantha always makes for a great subject. Most of the pictures I took with my Panasonic were of her. Okay, that's an exaggeration, but I wouldn't be surprised.
She such great control of her face. She can go from smiling to serious without a single thought, with both looking perfectly at home on her face. It helps that she loves having her picture taken.
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