Category: heart

Loser

The LanCoVa Supervisors voted unanimously to grant a special exception for an industrial use (marine construction) in the middle of a residential neighborhood. I am dumbstruck, in search of a land use guru who can explain how this action was anything other than arbitrary and capricious given the existing Lancaster County zoning code.

Grandfather and Granddaughter

I’ve been scanning old negatives. The window into the past is contact sheets, but if a negative is dreadfully under or overexposed, the image will not be visible. So I saw this composition once, in 1983 when I took the photo. Yesterday I saw it a second time. My father and his granddaughter. A good man. Letting the sleeping baby lie. Photo from Providence RI, the Hidden Street house.
This was the twins first foray north of the Mason Dixon line.

Hopes and fears

7/4/2018 Monticello Naturalization
For 56 years Monticello has hosted a Naturalization ceremony on the nickel side of the house, July 4. It is July in Virginia, in the direct sun, high humidity. It is a joyous celebration at the complicated man’s house, on the day he died.
new citizen
The Honorable Michael F. Urbanski presided. 70+/- people took the oath, joined the work, new citizens from Afghanistan, Barbados, Bhutan, Burma, Burundi… the list goes on, 35 countries in all. Andrew Tisch, Leslie Bowman and Judge Urbanski spoke. Their words were meaningful, inspiring and portentous. Or maybe it is the mountaintop venue? Like singing in a cathedral where voices reverberate. Monticello is a complicated place to contemplate Liberty, it is the high altar and the thin ice.
Monticello crowd
And so, into the 243rd year.
Monticello 7/4/2018
Tyler Simpson sings the National Anthem, lady on his right signs…

 

Rosni Farm

Rosni Farm wasn’t my first or last job, but of the places I’ve lived/worked, it owns my heart. The pasture, crop and woodland, the herd, the barns, the buildings and the people, were featured in stories from 100+ years. The stories were part and parcel of being there, they were the soul of a place. Stories were told, around a wood stove, under a shade tree, on a hay wagon. They made work easier, they made the world bigger.