Snobbin: Beautiful Trash in the Pop Culture Gutter

Sitting on the rock dock, that was hauled here by horses long ago, I try to avoid dangling modifiers, escaped adjectives, the fishy river smell, the dreams of my cabin youth. Dragonflies in a mating dance strafe my upturned face, promising me a contemplative future, the expected narratives of cabin summers, the expectancy that a bald eagle will break my revery.  Cold, iron-stained water covers my toes as I wade into the shallow water, avoiding jagged rocks and crayfish,  heading for deeper pockets, floating between granite obstacles. I submerge my body deep in the cloistered, silent water, on the sandy river bed, imagining the walleyes swimming by my head, and rock bass ignoring my presence. I rest here, sloughing off the cares, finding my own private Bethlehem as Joan Didion might, in the less brackish deep. I hover.

Stung by mosquitoes that are driven by bloodlust I sit in the outhouse of undeniable redoubt Please give me this boon, the living of the senses A sensory world that never fades I lose my voice, amidst the bullfrog croak Greenery and tree root, the slap of tail on water 

Train Trestle, Train Trestle To the tune of an old Nick Cave song,              Some would say you block the view  of nature, of the sky, of the dirty, old  dumpster behind Lakeview Resort. I love your economy and utility. The nature lover in me dismisses  your role in bringing belching  smoke to the heartland.  Yet the romantic in me is  enamored with travel. Like most Americans, I  respect the promise of  coast to coast travel  that you exemplify. Dark metal and creosote wood bisecting nature. Green grass peeks from under  the wood of your tracks. The foliage will take back the land, but you will still peek from  beneath its lush carpet. Nature and commerce be damned. We all have a job to do. 

My wife, Carrie, and I hit the trails yesterday and took some cool pictures on the DeGray Lake Resort Island Trail. We were not expecting to find so much wildlife. We saw many deer and a fox family lurking near their den. Watching the deer reminded me of Jonathan Richman's version of Marty Robbins' "Man Walks Among Us." As the deer and fox either scurried away through the underbrush or stood silently and watched, I felt like we were trespassing in this beautiful area. We slowly made our way through and left the animals to their lives.

“A man on foot, on horseback or on a bicycle will see more, feel more, enjoy more in one mile than the motorized tourists can in a hundred miles.”  ―  Edward Abbey ,  Desert Solitaire My wife and I recently visited Hot Springs National Park and hiked up Hot Springs Mountain. Many of my pictures tend to deal with the juxtaposition of man-made objects and nature. I love to take pictures that show how nature attempts to reclaim its space.