View allAll Photos Tagged RockingChair
for the group time & place
traveling cross-country, this was my first time in chicago illinois, albeit only the o'hare airport. damn it was busy! the frantic energy was palpable. being exhausted, hungry, and a bit confused it wasn't as pleasant as i would've hoped, you know, as a photo opp :)
but at the last minute, nearing my gate at the end of a terminal i came upon this scene. i stopped cold, put down my goods, scoped out the people and realized that no one seemed to think this unusual. i myself have never seen a white wooden rocking chair in an airport. i speculated that the guy was traveling with it? no, that didn't make sense. someone else was and left it there? uh, maybe it was brought up from baggage, unclaimed?
i didn't get it, and i didn't get the nonchalance of everyone *about* it. even when i got my camera out and knelt down to shoot - usually drawing attention - no one even looked my way. perhaps unlike myself, no one else wanted to look naive, not "in-the-know"?!
delighted, i took a few shots without anyone blinking an eye. i thought of asking the guy sitting there if he knew what was what, but decided to leave it, preferring the mystery.
which reminds me - there are frequent enough times that someone will ask me where i took a particular photo and the best i can come up with is "well, i was walking around ______, so it was somewhere around there". i like wandering and discovering what might happen upon me. and sometimes it's wonderful, magical, to go back looking for something only never to find it again. don't always want/need to know all the answers ...
There is something so peaceful about rocking chairs on a wraparound porch. Makes you want to sit and look out at the world a little bit.
Here they sat on my Antique Rocking Chair for the Easter Holidays. They will be back next year on my chair of Honour, lol!
My very old creation but it seems to me very funny and curious enough to put it here! Sorry for small resolution :)
An early 1900’s photo of a woman reading in a rocking chair in a field. I think she must be one of my ancestors!
It's been ages since I posted a photo of one of my original paintings on here. This is a water colour I did many years ago when I lived in Canada.
Beautiful day ... today I took the "Moxinator" for a walk down by the lake. Found a stray tennis ball at the courts (a big bonus for her!) and stopped by at the community clubhouse to sit for a spell. The birds were chirping happily, though otherwise it was very quiet. Perfect.
The National Park Service employs a lot of landscape architects and a fair number of graphic designers. You see their work here - a design of the visitor center porch that is clearly intended to invoke a neighborly location in the American South from decades past. You wouldn't see this design in New Mexico or Montana.
Dylan Thomas - 1914-1953
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
From The Poems of Dylan Thomas, published by New Directions. Copy