Sunday, July 24, 2016


Recently I roamed around a small town populated with about 4000 residents. I was looking for some representative homes that were mostly small in size, early 1900s, colorful, and had various plants around their front yard. I found these four homes that were fairly close to what I was looking for. I call them granny houses as they reminded me of  the graphic storybook homes that were featured in the books I used to read to my children when they were young.

This small town has not been touched by a lot of of development -- thankfully. The town's commercial strip is made up of older buildings -- many one storied -- and all of different design and materials.

Most of the houses in the town are individualistic from each other with lots of rural character. Some need a little TLC but most are kept up very nicely. 

Weeds don't have a bad reputation in this town. They live together with many different types of plants. Overall I felt like I was viewing a storybook town. One that appreciates its housing history. 

Sunday, July 17, 2016


New Age Naturalist

"It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see."
Henry David Thoreau

Monday, July 11, 2016

Former neighbors with my dog Daisy

Personal thoughts.

I believe.

In contrast to the world news -- I have begun to think about what most of the world's folk must be like -- excluding those that bomb, shoot or do other unspeakable harm to others. I feel that we as everyday common folk go about our life in a friendly and pleasurable manner. 

I believe the news media and our political bodies are one large machine that perpetuates scare tactics. This machine attempts to influence our way of life. Their negative remarks trickle down and influence some who are living a good life. 

I believe we all have ways of coping with the waves of violence that we know is going on around the world. One of mine is to limit news programs to a tiny minimum. Otherwise, smile, hug, dance, and sing. Life is good for most folk. 

I believe the world of good folks can undue the influence of the news and political bodies' negative pronouncements. Just turn it off. 

Christmas 1914 World War One

Tuesday, July 5, 2016


Front facade of Denise's home with her climbing roses flowing over her natural picket fence.

REPOST FROM -- 6/15/14

Small towns offer so much texture to our regional landscapes. Textures in the form of flowers, trees, architecture, personal landscape touches, fencing, small home veggie gardens plus other unique configurations. All containing the personal touches of the town folk.

Yesterday, I was out and about with my son -- visiting a small town that had a nice little bike shop. My son is a biker and needed some special repairs to his bike. He gets great exercise riding his bike to work in Portland every day -- twenty miles there and back. 

But getting back to the small town. I, personally, was looking at the houses of the town -- the unique representations of its housing stock.  Down a small residential street I found one that I was smitten with. I call the home -- Denise's place. 

 Denise's raised garden beds with her garage in the background.

Denise was out front in her yard when I happened upon this cozy wood framed house. I didn't see her at first but as I stepped out of my car she waved me over to her yard. It was a friendly meeting of two senior ladies --  her and I -- and I felt her warmth from the start. 

She talked about her house with affection explaining she moved there ten years ago. She also explained that the house had only 600 plus square feet inside. I thought to myself how wonderful. Less to take care of when one is retired. She also explained that her house is over hundred years old. Wonderful, built when houses were built with solid materials -- not thin plywood like some today that suffer damage in strong winds.  

All the time we talked Denise's large beautiful calico cat sat on the railing listening and watching us. I just had to a photograph Ms Calico as she seemed so regal on the porch railing. 

Denise has added many small touches that make a home personal. Like the old wagon and trike that sit with flowers under a small tree near her front roadway. Also she has a clump of four very large conifers sitting on the corner of her property that are notations of the its natural history. 

My lasting impression of Denise is that she
 has made a home that fits her like a glove

Saturday, July 2, 2016


Oregon is rather an eclectic state that invites one to practice different occupations. The bus with critters prominently displayed on the cab, and all of his bus sides really, belongs to a free spirited  man. His business is travelling the Pacific Northwest selling fresh Halibut and Seabass. 

Thought his vagabond bus style offered a spirited atmosphere to those who admired his artistic artwork. My header above is a photo of his whole bus. 

Tuesday, June 28, 2016


It appears that trees like to create their embroidered patterns upon the ground for us humans to enjoy. 

Sunday, June 26, 2016


It was a nice sunny, dry day and the roofers had just left for the day. Delores had just appeared out on her porch with her broom to sweep away the roofing debris. 

Earlier in the day I had spotted an old well cared for building as I rode into the small town of Tangent, Oregon. Now later -- leaving Tangent -- I noticed this genteel looking woman working her broom diligently. along the long porch of this old historic structure. Stopping in front of the old building I asked her who owned the building. She said rather firmly, "I do'"

Delores immediately sat down on her porch bench and gave me a look, that I read as, "lets talk." So I bounced out of my truck and sat down with her and talked. Our subjects were wide ranging. She told me that her and her husband moved to Tangent from the Midwest when they bought this old building. The building had a living residence plus a post office and convenience store. The convenience store was run by Delores after their move-in.  Then they gave up the convenience store part of the building and rented it out to a restaurant. Now the latest restaurant endeavor had just moved out. She told me that was the last of rentals for her.

She told me she had lost her husband two years ago. Now at seventy- seven she wanted to relax and work in her gardens. As you can see in the photo above a small flower garden was growing by her backyard entrance gate -- a large vegetable garden was in back. 

I found it amazing that one can be out and about and run into folks such as Delores. Sitting together on the porch bench, discussing all kinds of subjects with this woman I just met -- gave me a peaceful feeling in this world of turmoil.  

Thursday, June 23, 2016


Most barn photographs are of front exteriors. The photos on this post are all of backside exteriors of a large gambrel-roofed barn and its few remaining farm outbuildings. No farm house in sight. A busy highway road roars by the farm's frontage.The surrounding rural land is mostly large tracts of acreage belonging to farmers. 

If one discovers the small entry road along the back of this farm's property one can pull in with a vehicle, park for a few minutes while imagining its past use and if for more than a few minutes invent some farm stories about the place.  

Together, the structures stand straight and appear in good condition. Are they vacant ? -- perhaps.

One would expect to see some tools of the barn world in this back area -- hay wagon, truck, tractor, and perhaps an old harrow. But no -- the place has been "swept" clean of all vestiges of farm implements. 

The farm's "backsides" have become backgrounds for beautiful wild plants of various hues. 

The one and only modern item I noticed in this environment was a wooden stake driven into the ground with a posted paper sign saying "No Trespassing."

The rusting steel roofs combine nicely with the old natural wood buildings capturing a nice contrast with the wild ones growing tall in the soil. This photo above reveals that very few, if any, humans have walked by this way lately. 

Even the robin-egg blue of the old corrugated siding of the barn felt right at home with the unpretentious plant colors.

For whatever reason the overcast skies, the old patina of the buildings along with the various hues of the wild plants took me back to some of the farms I was familiar with from my past. 

Except for the whizzing noise of the highway I felt very peaceful here.

Peaceful yet sad as I felt this beautiful place just might not have a bright future ahead?  

What do you think?