After two days of dreary skies and intermittent rain I woke up this morning to a very welcome blue sky and warm temperatures.
It was a very beautiful spring day in Middle Tennessee.
LC, Jamie and I had spent too much time hanging around the house over the past few days and over coffee this morning we brainstormed how we would spend at least part of this day, that was too beautiful to continue hanging around the house.
We had errands to run in Shelbyville and had seen a sign for Bedford Lake in that area just a few weeks ago.
After more discussion it was agreed that we could try and find the lake after we were done in town.
After my living in this area for quite a few years I could not think of one good reason why I had never been to Bedford Lake before.
It was very close to home and yet I knew nothing at all about the place.
Doing some quick research online I realized that the entire park and lake made up only 47 acres.
It was apparently a very popular fishing spot where locals catch things like sunfish, crappie and catfish.
Disappointed that it sounded like a very small place we decided to head there after leaving Shelbyville anyway, just to see what the place looked like.
Heading away from Shelbyville and then through the very small community of Normandy we quickly found ourselves in endless blue sky, endless green fields, wildflowers, country homes and beautiful rolling hills..................
We thankfully headed further away from the community of Normandy, and further away from the new subdivisions that have sprouted up like dandelions in the sun on the outskirts of Normandy and on land that used to be farm land.
Driving further still we found ourselves in the hills and endless farm land that belongs to old and large cattle farms that have been in families for many generations.
It was a very green and extremely lush place and we found a spot on the side of the road where I could safely climb out of the truck to snap some quick pictures...................
While LC and James stayed with the truck I stood for a few moments before taking pictures, looking out at the green all around me.
There were more trees in this one small area than the entire Park County that we lived in while we were in Cody Wyoming.
It was greener, even early in spring, than it would ever get in the middle of summer in Cody.
It was beautiful. Very beautiful. And it all belonged to.........someone. Land owners. Property owners. Farmers.
Part of me loves and welcomes the green.
Part of me misses the public lands of Wyoming where you are free to roam wherever your feet or your bike or your horse and your truck takes you, and where you could look out over an often barren landscape and see forever.
Where you could travel all day and never once run into another person...................
Yellow flowers as far as the eye could see...............
As much as I loved the terrain of Alaska and Wyoming and now Tennessee (and I photographed that wonderful terrain very often with huge pleasure) there always seems to be one specific and regional man-made "thing" that speaks to me.
In Juneau it was old mining artifacts.
Juneau has a very rich gold mining history and that history was evidenced in the old mining shafts that I found while exploring, as well as the mining artifacts I unexpectedly came across on beaches and while walking trails.
In Wyoming it was old wooden wagons. I found them standing in the middle of people's yards and at the end of their driveways, falling apart in fields, hidden in barns and other old structures, in museums, used as vehicles during parades and so many other expected and unexpected places.
And in Tennessee I am continually drawn to old barns.
Some are lovelier and better maintained than my house.
Most are worn, dilapidated, run down and sometimes falling down.
But all of them have their own unique character.
Their old tin roofs. Their multiple doors. Their faded wood that speaks to a hundred years or more of life.
They speak to the history of Tennessee just as much as confederate cemeteries or old slave walls or old multi-storied homes with their ginger bread decorations and wrap-around porches do.
They stand alone in fields as silent observers of their world.
They are a beautiful, rustic, understated and often overlooked part of Tennessee history................
Close to the lake LC pulled over one more time so I could take pictures of the cows.
When I first climbed out of the truck they were all close to the road and facing towards me.
As I got ready to cross over the road though I had to first stop for a jeep to pass by.
The jeep startled this herd of yearlings and they quickly turned as one and headed away from the road and the unexpected noise of the vehicle.
I waited for them to stop, turn and head back towards me, and they did stop for a moment.
They turned (again as one) and eyed me suspiciously before deciding that they did not like the looks of me at all.
And so I managed to only get pictures of them facing away from me...............
Old Barns
I love old barns, the wood all weathered
Always imagine a couple of horses there, tethered.
Big ones, small ones, no matter what size
In the country, you're sure to see one just over the rise
I love old barns, painted deep red
When inside you know the cows are well fed
And up in the cupola, painted white,
Out comes the pigeons, taking off in flight.
I love old barns, filled with hay
With a couple of red hens getting ready to lay
And with them struts the rooster all speckled black and white
They'll return to the hen house before it is night.
I love old barns, no longer in need
Where many a horse and many a cow have taken their feed
But to the owner I really must pray
Please do not let it rot and tumble away.
I love old barns, way out of town
Where I can drive and dream, and always slow down
For to this day I'll always remember
When I left the farm it was late September
Roy Kieling
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