Summer’s End

Another season has passed. Summer’s hot, hazy, lazy days are over.
Everything has its season and just as surely as the summer has passed,

so has the useful life of this old machine.

Can you identify this antique?

Foggy Mountain (Breakdown)

Today I seem to be suffering from mental block. I like this photograph and wanted to post it. I just could not find a title no matter how hard I tried. What do all good husbands do when they don’t have the answer? Ask the wife, of course!

With one glance she exclaimed Foggy Mountain! Leave it to the girls, they ALWAYS have the answer! I added the breakdown thus naming it after the Flatt & Scruggs bluegrass song.

The Foggy Mountain Boys (1948-1969) was the name of the Flatt & Scruggs band, with the Foggy Mountain Breakdown as their opening tune. For you old-timers out there, do you remember The Beverly Hillbillies and Petticoat Junction? If you do then you remember these boys music.

Man versus Beast

This is a tale of a battle of epic proportions. While my son was visiting this spring past I invited him to a day on the Chesapeake to pursue the mighty Striped Bass. The day started with wakeup at 1:30. AM that is! After traveling an hour we stopped to fuel and pick up my faithful fishing companion Paul, another two hours on the road and we arrived at the marina. Whew, half a day in already and we’re now just ready to launch!

With the boat in, a two mile run took us to the fishing grounds. Spring trophy striper fishing is accomplished by trolling. For those not familiar with this sport, the boat is run at slow speed pulling the lures through the water. As long as the lines are in the water the boat cannot stop or the ensuing tangle will be so severe as to make any old salt weep!
Here we go! Eight lines in, trolling speed set, 3.5 mph, water calm, sun rising, the hunt is on!

Soon a rod goes down and my son does the honors.

After a battle lasting a few minutes the first fish is on board. Too short! Oh well, splash, maybe we’ll see him again in a couple of years. On my boat we take turns fighting the fish so a couple of fish later it was his turn again but he passed. What's this? Do I see green? Yeah green it is! We have us a case of sea sickness! Out with the pills. Down the hatch. Reassurance that life will get better.

Ok more fish to catch for the old salts. The youngn needs time to recoup, but no problem. He can drive the boat while we fish.

A couple of hours later he is back up, ready to have another go.

Whoa! Now that rod is down big time, drag stripping, get it boy! It’s a biggun! Biggest one today! Maybe biggest one ever! Keep the pressure on! Don’t horse her. Might break the line. Doing good! Keep im coming! Good job! Gosh it gotta be a biggun! Take it easy! Keep the line tight!

With line taunt, muscles bulging, sweat popping, he pulled, he cranked, pulled some more, slowly ever so slowly the great leviathan neared the boat.

Hold the boat straight Paul! Pull up Chad, bring her over the net. A little more. More. There we go, she’s in the net! Wowzer!

The fish didn’t flop, she didn’t ever wiggle, she was totally exhausted! And so was our hero! I ask him to hold her up for a quick pic. No way. Wooped! Totally! Wooped! So I did the best I could, then quickly put her back in the water, held her, revived her, and set her free. I looked around, my young fisherman was eating! Calories, he needed Calories!

They had a good fight. He won! But the best part…………..

They both lived to fight another day!

Note: some photos by Chad Oneil

Sweet Innocence

Two little boys exploring the wonders of a new pet.

How does this thing work?

You put the grass up to its mouth and......

Wow!!!

It disappears!

Amazing!!!!

Character

No brush grows in a new fence row, the post are neatly aligned and properly spaced, the wire is new and shiny. Each fence of this type is nearly identical to the next.

A tree falls on it here, a cow forces her way through there, a little bird nest in a hole where a knot has rotted away. Ivies climb the post, brush grows, and repairs are made. The passing years, the problems encountered are written indelibly upon the fence. As the years take their toll each fence develops its own unique character and beauty.

When young, we are nearly perfect with fresh young faces and lithe young bodies. As the years pass, the life we live, the trying times we go through are indelibly etched upon our countenance.

Like the fence, with the passing of time, we too develop our own unique individual character and beauty.

The Boulders

In literature we frequently find references to rocks. They are seen as being solid, durable, strong, and impenetrable. In times past rocks were used to build pyramids, fortresses, and many other massive imposing structures. During our Civil War General Thomas J. Jackson earned his name “Stonewall” at the battle of the First Bull Run for standing in the midst of shot and shell unflinching. General George H. Thomas earned the nickname “The Rock of Chickamauga defending Chickamauga Creek in northwestern Georgia.

Have you noticed how banks and large government buildings are frequently made of stone? Mankind’s intuitions are only as strong as the faith of the people. Imposing masonry structures have an aurora of strength, stability, and permanence designed to bolster our faith in them. Just like the soldiers mentioned above they may not be as solid and eternal as they first appear. They may in fact be supported by only a small underpinning without which they must surely fall.

This outcrop on the edge of a precipice portrays all of these characteristics.

The Little Country Church

I have always had an appreciation for the architecture of the little country churches. They are so different from the mega churches often built today. These little churches seem so serene, as though the problems of the world have passed them by. Many of them are quite picturesque as well. They are often accompanied by a small grave yard. As you wander through it you will find many generations which have made this church their spiritual home and are now at rest, buried beside their ancestors.

These churches house small congregations as well, usually less than one hundred and frequently much less. Unlike large churches where one may attend for years and never learn everyone’s name, here all know one another intimately. Everyone regularly attending soon becomes like family members and the term “Church Family” has a very real meaning.

I grew up in a small church and vividly remember the Sunday School classes, the preachers pounding the pulpit, revival service with dinner in the church basement at its conclusion. I remember the Sunday afternoon hymn sings where the local talent would give their rendition of the good old gospel songs.

If you have never attended worship at a Little Country Church and you have the opportunity, do it! You will be glad you did. You may find yourself with a whole new family of friends.

Sunrise on the Water

My father in-law passed a major milestone in life on his last birthday. This year he celebrated his 70th birthday. If you know him, you cannot help but love him. He is one of the most gentle men I have ever known. For his birthday my wife and I decided to surprise him with a day of fishing in the Gulf of Mexico. I captured this image of him as we were departing from Madeira Beach Florida. The fish were not the most cooperative that day but that did not hinder us from having a great day at sea.

Crossroads School

My Grandfather was born in 1901. He and his siblings attended the Cross Roads School. They had a two mile walk to reach the school. Of course this trip was made regardless of weather conditions. The country schools of that day had all eight grades in one room with one teacher. Blanche Hollinshead is the teacher in this picture. I remember her from my childhood. She organized a non-denominational bible school which we attended each summer. She would frequently call on my grandfather to give a “Habit Talk”. The habit talk was a short story illustrating a moral lesson. She also did substitute teaching at my elementary school. Granddad is one of the small boys pictured in this class photograph taken in about 1910.

This is the Cross Roads School house today. It is now used by its present owner as a workshop

The Path

I beckon you come.

Walk under the spreading branches of my mighty oak. Follow me through the mist. The way is not clear. Do not be timid. Others have passed this way before and you must only follow for I am here to guide you.

Follow me into the glorious light of the future.

The Path by Salty Dawg


(This verse was inspired by my wonderful wife, who upon seeing this photograph said “That picture speaks to me”)