When I looked out my front window this morning,
I saw this...
The sunrise was shining off the sycamore trees.
I had to grab my camera and go play.
I walked out to the porch and looked through the viewfinder, but the scene wasn't quite right. I walked down the front path, out to the driveway, and partway up it.
I had such a wonderful time, seeing my home through the eyes of someone else. Instead of seeing it all at once, warts and all, I saw little places that could be framed, that would stand alone as beautiful. Everywhere I looked, there were sweet little scenes within the whole. The sycamores led me to the barns that led me to Daddy's shop that led me to the creek that led me to the cabin that led me back to the barns.
An hour later I came back inside to download the photos.
I did something wrong and lost all but the two above.
I had an excuse to go back out again!
Who lives here I wonder.
Maybe this guy?
Nah. He's too small.
Pecans. Lots and lots of pecans.
I have fat squirrels.
The Open Hay Shed.
Daddy built that forty-odd years ago.
The last Longhorn.
I shall call her T-Bone.
My neighbor, Cosmo.
Tiny little Sugar Pie.
The horses, Shirley Anne and Christmas.
They're so shiny.
He has such a kind eye.
The Big Old Barn.
We used to store hay in here. We'd back a trailer full right up to those
double doors and pile it all up inside. It's seventeen feet high at the
apex. It was always such a good feeling every year when it was full.