I have been alone a bit in my life, and I know isolation when I see it. I don’t know what does on in the mind of a chicken, but this evening, going into the barn, I saw Fran looking up at the roost where Fran and Toots would go every afternoon and evening. Fran can’t move her wings yet – the fox chew up her right wing – but she kept hopping up, not getting far. All day, she kept coming into the barn and looking up at the roost, and it did touch my heart. Getting more hens Saturday.
For me, as for others, the railroads have always touched the imagination, suggested romance and progress, escape and adventure. These tracks, near Salem N.Y., at sunset, take us places, and so I will put a photo album up on Facebook because tracks in the sun are emotional.
In every sunset, every passing of every day, there is emotion. Lives lived, lives lost, struggles, achievements, growth and change. Buildings can reflect this, mirror the passage of life. That is the way I feel about this milkhouse on Route 30 in Hebron. It is an old milkhouse, but more than that, especially when the sunset catches it.
Rocky come some burrs stuck on his head and waited patiently while Maria removed them. Like the donkeys, he likes attention, but not for too long. He is busy checking out the grass popping up. I think he is very open to Maria, very comfortable with her. Me, too. When I pull up, he whinnies and comes running.
As instructed, playing around with the shutter speed setting. This photo was an accident, but I like it.
