A MORNING SQUIRREL AND A WATERFALL

 A deer poked her head around a thick bush and stared straight at me with that deer in the headlight  look.

This morning found me driving toward the Cherokee tailrace prior sunrise.  I wanted to be at the water's edge when the sun came up to be sure and catch the fishermen who would be launching their boats.  Seems river anglers always launch boats just at sunrise.   A steady drizzle started to fall about a half hour before old Sol made his appearance and a cold chill lingered near the water.  I waited and waited and no anglers.  It was then I noticed the little squirrel.

 He came down the tree head first chattering all the way until he saw me.  Then he froze as if he were concrete.

He was caught out in the open and vulnerable and he knew it.

 I couldn't even see him breathe.  Funny.

I don't want to stress the little fella out so I took a parting picture and eased down the gravel road.

Everyone who knows me understands that I like old buildings, especially barns and will stop at nothing to photograph them.  I also like old wood fences and lately I've discovered that I like to photograph the wire that is attached to the fence posts as well as fence post supports.  Here's what I mean.  Below:

 Look how that tree has grown around the barbed wire.  The tree has adapted to the foreign entity that doesn't belong in or on its space.  Beyond that little detail - notice the colors on the wood.  The greens come in about four different shades and represent molds and mosses the likes of which I'm lost concerning their origins.

 These old fence posts have character.  They are chock full of character and charm!

 When I see one of these old posts with barbed wire my mind conjures up visions of farming in the late eighteen and early nineteen hundreds.  Visions of a team of oxen or mules pulling a single bottom plow appear before my eyes as I push the shutter button on the camera.

 But most of all these old rotted posts with wire represent everything that is "not" today.  I am reminded about sweat and honesty, love of family, land and country, respect for mom and dad who work the land so that I might enjoy a better life later on.

 And these old posts remind me of the farm I grew up on and loved so much - the parents who pulled me up by my boot straps and made me successful, if only in their eyes.

 Yep;  these old posts with their pieced together wire represent an earlier life that I now miss with my heart and sole.  Would I go back if I could?  Yer darn right I would.

And finally, "the waterfall"------------