Wet.

Explosion!

...of color here! 

This is fall 

in the High Country 

'full on!'

Shabby (and I like it.)

Shabby (and I like it.)

I peel off the chic and fancy garments adorning me on my day out  
(you know, the ‘dress-up’ type items of apparel that are posh 
enough to put on the dog!) My black pants 
(now amply decorated with clumps of prolific long white collie dog hair 
that has ‘attached’ only moments after my being home) 
and my floral, wispy blouse come off! I need my clogs, 
my shabby jeans and my loose, comfy cotton. 
The truth of it is, I prefer this ultra-shabby, sloppy, slipshod, 
uneven and mostly worn-out look above all else. 
Perhaps I can travel ‘incognito,’ as a bum or as 
a tramp named “Rose” or “Delilah” or “Rita.” 
I can pass myself off as someone 'too poor to have an opinion 
that would be considered.' I wish I could travel about as this…
and never have to dress up. And I will most likely come back 
in a second life as a frumpy old scarecrow 
left standing in a field with 
only the brave birds as my faithful friends.  

lg :-)

Deboxing Day!

You can find me here!

Futzing with Dollies

Another doll...:-)

Find me here: 

(for now...)

:-)

Futzing with Dollies

Silver Woman

Asheville (NC) Mime

This wonderfully amazing woman was one of my all time favorite subjects 

to photograph. Take a good look at the fabric of her dress, the veins 

and wrinkles on her skin, her buttons...Her face is so smooth and beautiful!

People amaze me! What a delightful thing it was to encounter her in 
Asheville, North Carolina one hot summer afternoon. :-)

Two best shots...to date.

First Visitation of a Hummingbird in Spring



(This has been hard! 

We are still trying diligently, 
to bring you a really good shot, here.) 
lg

:-)

Persevere...

until you get the prize.

These are (just) two of about 70+ photos we took of the first hummingbirds to arrive last week. For whatever reason, we did not get good result! Study the first photo (with me.) Now why (oh why!) is the bird feeder absolutely crystal clear in this shot and the hummingbird (except its beak) is an absolute blurrrrr of motion?!! Look at the contrast! This is an amazing shot! (My favorite!!) :-)

The second shot is the best photo (of too many, I might add.) Perhaps the camera would simply not cooperate! Or is it that this bird...was as fast...as lightening? (I've seen better shots of lightening, I might add.) 

Hence, we have dubbed this bird, "Lightening Bolt." 

We will persevere to bring you better, clearer shots (as the summer progresses as we have many hummingbird visitors...)  

lg!

(My) Childhood Shoes

(My) Childhood Shoes

I fancied myself free

I danced a waltz tonight

I danced a polka 123-123

I spun on rose petals and pressed on bike pedals

I ran across the bridge cement and metal

bang-bang to my secret place where silver fishes lie waiting

and streetlights play games that are highlights

I skid across the inclined face of the moon

slippery like cheeses down to Natti’s Gap

I plodded along walls that wall in the strong cities

I shook the dust off myself after being made fun of

I had holes

ran a mile

and then I ran another

I felt the cool clay of the cavern-cave

and splashed through the shallow icy water slip-sliding

over rocks to get stuck deep in Lake Michigan’s mud

I kicked up my heels

kicked the cat

and then I jumped over the house.



© Karen Powell

Morning Prayer

Morning Prayer

Be in my fanciful meanderings

Be in my midnight glide on a silver moon beam carpet slide

up and up I slip across the black tree fingers of the very next pine lined ridge

Up and up I sail to my friend

the white hot crescent 
cool night moon

Be in the spine of my cat as I perch myself

upon the very tip of the last long black prick hair 
on his slow curling twitch-twitch tail 
and as I find myself in the dull glint

of his slow moving yellow eyes

open wide

and watching

Be in the hint of gleaming light as it peek-peeks

out from behind 

my five year companion the Looking Glass Tree branch 
as it plays its own game with me

yes my game an early morning game

trying as it would to cover up my (other) sweet friend

my white hot bright morning star

yes my morning

star of the east

my own yes my very own

rising up game 

that I play

Be in the ill-tempered Appalachian wind

as it rises and it builds
piling up full out on the ridges below

and then letting loose like a mini swarm of sometimes ill-intentioned

climbing well weighted down Mack trucks

They race-roar their engines

steady they go

up and up to reach the summit

of this my fair mountain—

causing the dog to turn her head

and me to brace my body

Be in the folds of his gray-white beard

that he strokes

softly

then slowly  

again as he lies pressed down

on his sickbed

where he waits patiently

for a touch from

dear 

sweet one Jesus

and the medication

Be with the man

my man

husband of more than 20 years

alone in the next shade

of an off white room 


© Karen Powell

Newsflash!

My husband saw the FIRST hummingbird at the feeder today 

(April 22nd, 2014.) 

This is a most 'sure' sign of impending spring!! 

(I am so glad to have the little guys back.) :-)

These photos are from last summer, however, 

as we have yet to get the feeder up and running! 
(I rather randomly chose some photos from the archives. 
Some are quite good, I was surprised to find.)

I'm excited, as you can tell.

Although they are small, 
they live a dramatic lifestyle!

As these photos show, 

they are such lovely and fierce little creatures... 

Ahhhhh.

You can locate me here this week:

'Kicking Back' ;-)

(On) Family and Marriage

'Family'

(On) Marriage

(by K. Annie Powell)

Butter and bread

butter and bread

go together

Naturally

Honey and tea

honey and tea

are a complement to one another

Gracefully

You and me

you and me

fit together through and through

Phenomenally.

'Little Birdie'

Little Birdie

I don’t want this poem crafted

with stanzas

or to end with a shocking ‘surprise’

Most certainly I do not want this poem to gob-smack

you right in between your eyes

I want this poem to be like a muzzle that sneaks up behind for a little cuddle 
I want this poem to be soft, feathery, and brown
I want this poem to grow up right from the ground
I want this poem to be lighter than air
I want this poem to float everywhere
I want this poem to sing a sweet little song
I want this poem to just happen along
I want this poem to vanish as you turn your head
I want this poem to greet you as you rise up from your bed
I want this poem to fly fly away 
and to come back at the end of the day 
I want this poem to give you a thrill
I want this poem to meet you over there on the hill
and if you're in doubt the same time next year
I want this poem to reappear.


© Karen Ann Powell

"How Dark is the Night?"

How dark is the night

when your baby boy

has left you?
Lying-he lies
stretched full out
with her by his side
alone on a nubby white bed.

Their candle-
it seems 
all but snuffed 
full out
I cannot comprehend

no warmth in his small fingers

they curl up with the mourners

spread apart in the room adjacent

filled with grief stricken silence 
broken up by her sobs

I am 20…
(I am 20)

How dark is the night?

How dark is the night?

A mother sits looking
her head turned aside
leaving her baby to slip

slowly he slides...

downward but looking up 
grimy is the Appalachian 
black water tendrils

as inward they glide along the curve of his skull 
Confused is 
the look 
as farther he sinks

Black water, you lie!
You are a liar
There is no truth in you

How dark is the night?

How dark is the night?

Must I walk these halls alone

with my vision obscured

banging my shins broken now bleeding 

Once vital the helper-now helped

I scratch my head asking
over I turn this
one thing
I ask
“How dark is the night?”


© Karen Powell

Sunrise!

"Morning has broken..."

Travels

(On) Traveling

(an assignment)

I once strolled on the beaches of Florida’s gulf coast. I was a sun gazer. I raised my son near the Florida Keys.  He was little then and woke up after a long car ride to being set down at night on the shore smack dab in the warm waves of the Atlantic. We swam in the oh so warm waters of Bahia Honda and bathed ourselves in sun and in sand. We delighted in the sea creatures of all kinds-the blue octopus and the large human colored turtle that popped up to the surface and made me jump. Nate was small then and full of the bajeebers! He was a handful. When he traveled, I traveled.

Natalie’s birth lead us back to the other coast. She was tiny then-just 8 weeks old and a real live beautiful baby. My days were filled with the upkeep of all things pertaining to our lives. Traveling to shop, traveling to transport, and happy then just to be home. School consumed our lives (on all levels…) And when they traveled, I traveled.

As a girl I often traveled alone, on my bike, on roller skates around a 3 block radius, and farther as I got older—to the skate park in the deep cold of winter. I once traveled across Lake Michigan on the Milwaukee Clipper with my Aunt. When I tell her now, this is how and when I ‘got the traveling bug’ she says “I don’t remember that.”

I once traveled across the Atlantic to Paris. Vive la France! I did a short term Mission trip. I sat with friends in Barcelona and waved a teary good-by to a friend from a train (much like in the movies…) I remember that she made a puppet dance and wave with a Kleenex that she had in her hand. Her name was Sara Silva. She was Portuguese. I never saw her again. Shortly after this, in 88, I was filled with romantic notions and the passionate hope of a young woman in love. And he was hoping I would come back. Keith and I (my husband) have traveled together now for almost 25 years. We are traveling companions, I would say. We love to travel. We travel mostly on the weekends, now.

After years and years of stifling hot sun (enough to bake the brain) we catapulted ourselves from the Florida heat, sun and sand to the leafed out green Appalachian Mountains (that we now call home.) This might have been our biggest and our best trek yet—traveling from sea level to about 4000 feet! 

I have always loved to travel and for many years even thrived on it! I couldn’t stay put. I mean I wouldn’t stay put. After a few years in one spot I would again get restless and have the pressing need to move on, to see new things and to reorient myself. I suppose that in order to live I must learn some new things. And I’m happier for it. But I would say that as the years turn, there are now some days in my safe and secluded mountain home that my travels are confined to my dreaming, as I gaze at the red sun rising in the east over the treed mountain ridge.  

Yes, there are days now, in which my own children travel farther (and faster) from the nest than I do [as in daughter # 1's case (Jasper) as she is basking herself in the sun on the sand of Kauai, as I write this. Well done, here, my brave fellow traveler! Bravo sweet Jasper and family--now she is an adventurer!) ]

Our other fledgling fellow travelers (children) are still around us enough to report their travels back to us (which they gladly do, I am happy to say.) ‘Me and Father’ are on and off (but mostly on) keeping a watchful eye and a keen ear. You never know when there might be a rescue maneuver called for, and at that time we will be prepared to launch (or not, as in my case.) But launch we will nonetheless.

lg

:-)

Winter Storm

This is the look of our surroundings... 

(for you)

of the snowfall that accumulated here overnight. 

Come on along! :-)

What awesome beauty to behold awaits you. 

The snow seems to makes all things new.

It is a balmy 27 degrees outside (so don't be too terribly chilled on your journey.)

[We are supposed to get winds up to 40 mph (!) later today so 

I am most  happy and relieved :-) to capture the stillness and quiet beauty 

of the woods for you before the violent winds come... 

(which I will not be out in~ mind you!)]

:-) 

The captions for the photos are as follows:

(from the top) 

Pristine Driveway Unaltered

The Way Down the Big Hill

Look to the Left

Snow-snow-snow (on tree)

Logging Path View

The Way Back Home

Running

Ginger Looks Back

Snowball

No Mountains to Be Found

Fence Line

Wooded Panorama 

lg!

(...snowed in until the plow comes.)

Grandfather in February

This is nearby Grandfather Mountain as seen this past weekend. 

We actually had a clear, sunny day so I got a photo of the mountain that 

I thought was 'blog worthy' for you! Enjoy!

Can you see the features of Grandfather's face lying down?

lg!

You can...

...locate me here, please, this week...at Vintage Doll.

Thank you!

:-)

Spring Promise

The silver stream of a broad moonlight ray 

kissed my cheek last night, as I laid upon my 

pillow. It crept in gently, first caressing the bed 

and then easing itself to my right ear 

where it whispered promises 

of bright red springtime

flowers with their sunny

button middles.


© Karen Powell

(lg) :)