Author Archives: SwittersB
Happy New Year 2013!!! (Snow Crystals Photography)
Is It Plaid or Flannel or ?
Happy Thanksgiving and Sincere Thanks to You
I wish you all a very pleasant holiday and may I just say this is a magnificent collection of loving, wise people. You have blessed me countless times with your words and images. I am a better person because of you!
Forgotten Harvest……..
A very old apple tree near a 142 year old, vacant farm house. Large, red, apples past their prime. I am not sure about the variety of apple, but typically these are not the types found laying about…usually Crabapples.
A Monument to Strong Hands & The Forgottens
I appreciate that this beautiful mausoleum is an erected testament to the MacLeay family of Portland, Oregon. But, for me, this structure, the highest amongst thousands of graves in the Lone Fir Cemertery, is a fascinating testament to stone masons and glass-smiths that carried out someone’s vision. No, it’s not a European edifice many hundreds of years old, but the craftsmen here were definitely a byproduct of those craftsmen.
Project to Honor Chinese and the Insane Buried in unmarked graves here
Down the Tracks….
The Green Grass Grows Where The Rare Freight Train Goes
Shadow & Contrast…..
In front of my old childhood home from 55 years ago (am I really this old?)…contrasts of old and newer, patches of cement and weeds. My shadow of what was a very innocent boy.
Fortitude
A distant fortress of rock, to shield, protect, give warning, shelter…Fort Rock (Oregon) and the surrounding area provided shelter to humans thousands of years ago.
Someone’s Daughter………..
Someone, where are you? Your daughter needs your attention.
Until Next Time…………….
The Last Rose of Summer (SwittersB)
I saw this today, provided as a form of farewell tribute for a sweet woman, Marianne Matthews, that had just passed. Included was her rendition of The Last Rose of Summer, sung in 1954. I found it touching enough to share.
‘Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
No rosebud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.
I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one!
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter,
Thy leaves o’er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
And from Love’s shining circle
The gems drop away.
When true hearts lie withered,
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?
