Monday, September 03, 2007

silver fox

silver fox
Originally uploaded by rod lewis
Wouldn't it be cool if you could rid the world of strangers?

Molly and I stole about 90 minutes this evening to hang together and take some pictures. We didn't know where to go, or what to look for, but when we passed a couple llamas that we've wanted to talk to before, we decided we'd found the place.
The llamas were close to the road, and a gated driveway was open, so we walked inside the fence. I could see a lady at the end of the driveway, so we walked toward her to ask if we could snoop about.
"Well the gate's open honey, just pull your truck up into the driveway."
We did, and shot the llamas (with digital sensors, of course - no harm was done). We also got pics of turkeys, guineas, some really awesome goats, and a gargantuan gaggle of geese.

When we'd finished snooping, we walked back to sit with the lady and maybe talk awhile. Her name is Ms. Richardson. If you know anything about our Dutch Fork area, you'd know that nearly all the roads are named Richardson Road. One can tell the old property lines by the change of road names. The fiefdoms of Sites, and Eleazar border the Realm of Richardson in the greater Dutch Fork, and generations have roads named for them. No doubt, we spent an hour last evening visiting with the queen of realm.
On the hill beside her, overlooking the same pond, live her son and daughter-in-law. Down the hill, by the pond below, rests her husband, the late Charles Richardson, 1927-2001. All around her range the guinea fowl, turkeys, geese, cats and chickens among the grazing goats and llamas.
She tried to get us to take the geese with us. :-) "I just can't seem to get them to leave," she said. "I guess it's because I feed them every day."

To the west, sets the sun that casts shadows and provides shade beneath the pinoaks in her yard, and glints its last golden rays on the ripples in the wake of the lazy geese. Her smile provides warmth as the cooler air of evening creates breezes and settles over the low-lying pond.
Don’t be a stranger. There’s plenty of time and sweet tea. There’s enough southern drawl for many evenings of conversation. There are enough memories for hours of solitude, but memories are better shared.