Operation Black Mountain - A Revelation

 For five days, October 28 thru November 1, 2024, a team of eleven people from Lakeview Free Will Baptist Church in Bowling Green, Kentucky traveled to western North Carolina to provide and offer assistance to anyone in need who suffered a loss due to Hurricane Helene. This hurricane devastated the communities of Black Mountain and Swannanoa, and many other locations, with flood waters of a biblical nature. Many lost their lives. Many more lost everything; their homes, their jobs, their security. 

Operation Black Mountain became a symbolic gesture of goodwill as the team reached out to several families in the area providing physical labor hopefully to soften the impact of their situation. We learned a great deal during those small but important efforts. Things like grace, courage, hope, encouragement, thankfulness, gratitude, were common virtues exhibited during this token, but important effort of giving of one's time and energy.

One of the locations we served was the Swannanoa Free Will Baptist Church spending half a day there helping another team rip the ruined flooring from the 100 year old building. While there, I took a moment to review the basement area of the church. One room caught my eye for hanging in the window was an American flag. Tattered, stained with a high water mark, it hung in the window as a proud symbol of this communities resolve to recover. Using my cell phone, I snapped its portrait. It is perhaps the single most powerful image from the trip.

Backlit by a bright background, it seemed to glow in the darkness and gloom. In a way, it spoke very loudly, but with a subtle voice, saying, "I'm still here, I'm still strong." Indeed she was and so were the people we grew to know during that short time.

There are many people within in our country who are upset by the recent election results. They have their reasons and I'll leave it at that, for now. I once read a book written by Peter Jenkins...two books actually. The first one was called 'A Walk Across America'. The second one was 'The Walk West.'

Back in the early 1970's, Peter was a disillusioned and disgruntled young college aged man who had grown angry with his country. Too many injustices, the Vietnam War, among other issues created a terrible although misguided view of what his country was and had become. In a way he didn't know what his country stood for. Someone convinced him to get out and see the country. Not just drive through it, but to walk across it and rediscover the heartland values of what we as a nation stood for. He and his dog did just that. It took him several years, but he made it and in the process discovered so much about the people of America. 

He discovered that in spite of her many faults, America's heartland is strong and vibrant filled with good, God fearing people, who work hard and care for their families. He got to know so many of them and they grew to love him, and he them. Doing so changed his life. Doing so changed his understanding of what America is all about.

Operation Black Mountain, in a smaller way, proved the worth of selflessly doing for others, with what you can give, even if it is simply a small gesture of kindness. Finding that American Flag defiantly hanging in the basement window after a devastating flood, well, I think maybe the Good Lord wanted me to discover that symbolic moment. It spoke to me.

Yes, in spite of her faults, America is still a place of opportunity and resolve. We may seem deeply divided to many from around the world, and maybe we are in some ways. But, when you take time to look more closely, to selflessly give to or encourage others, to see the good that thrives across this land, well...the chasm of divisions may not seem so wide.

Indian Summer - Rhoden Creek

 The simple things grow more important the older I become. I discovered a renewed spirit on Kentucky's little Rhoden Creek during a most memorable Indian Summer October.

A Splendid Kentucky Indian Summer October: How A Small Little Creek Salvaged My Photography

 I had nothing better to do. The weather was splendidly fine and the late October Kentucky sky shined bright and blue. A chill filled the air early on, but I knew by mid-morning the day would turn Indian Summer warm. About 9:00 AM I scurried around and grabbed my new-to-me Sony A77 camera, an upgrade from my now older and defunct A65. With the Sigma 18mm - 50mm f/2.8 lens attached I made sure the polarizer looked clean and dust free. A quick spin and all was ready. I grabbed my venerable Minolta 75-300mm lens, just in case. Didn't plan on using it, but you never know. Rule is, if I didn't bring it, I'd have wished I did, but by taking it, it was pretty well a done deal I would not use it. A fresh battery tucked into a shirt pocket along with a pair of readers...and oh yeah...can't forget the tripod. I settled for the smallish, but sturdy AFaith one. A quick reformat of the card and I was ready to go.

Fall in Kentucky lingers way to long. Seems it just holds off, and holds off, showing only tantalizing hints of what is to come. Then almost like magic, someone waves an invisible wand and overnight the fields and woods are adorned in colors that rival anyplace you might imagine. Just three days before only a few trees showed any kind of significant color. This morning, the fall season colors exploded across the landscape including my backyard. But, I was heading to another location, A little creek known as Rhoden Creek. It's a place I frequent from time to time for I know if I catch it just right..well, just maybe there might be a photo or two in there.

The old Jeep purred on down the road passing flowing colors adorning the hills and valleys that is eastern Warren County, and western Allen County. I needed a light windbreaker for the air was still cool especially with the doors off the Jeep. The winding road passed old buildings and barns moving up and over shallow hills and along side fence rows. I took a shortcut inside Scottsville and came out on the other side of town and continued on. Before long me and the old Jeep took a left turn off the mainroad and drove on for another mile or so and took another left turn to eventually cross a low-water bridge. I parked on the other side. 

The creek flowed low but steady and danced lively to its own rhythm across a gravel bottom and slippery flat rocks. I walked across the bridge to the backside and stepped onto the gravel bank. Sometimes I simply time it right, and today it felt right. I knew something photographic would come from this. The creek was lined on one side by a row of trees glowing with fresh fall colors. Behind them a two maybe three acre field spread a gap between the creek and a shallow hillside also speckled with reds and yellows. On the other side of the creek a shallow hill rolled upward forming a tilted wall. Lined with a woodland, its sides shouted with authentic Kentucky color.

Countless fallen leaves already lined the creek and a small break line offered a tiny brook level waterfall whose motion generated the classic small creek music. With each lift of the breeze, hundreds of leaves filtered across the opening, and with each passing of moments, I was filled with the satisfying sense of being there. The water, clear and clean, rolled along near my feet. So much to see, so many angles and compositions to choose from, I found it difficult to decide where to start. I just allowed my instincts to take charge.

Visualizing a composition is one of the most difficult things for a photographer to master. Sometimes Nature all but does it for you. Even so, you gotta evaluate the sun angle, compose the frame, set the exposure, adjust the polarizer, move forward, backward, kneel lower or stand higher. But eventually, you press the shutter. I am thankful I started in photography way back in the film days. Doing so forced me to observe more intimately the landscape and composition, and that alone has contributed to my, most of the time, seeing the composition before I press the shutter. One thing I've learned over the years; There is more to capturing Fall colors than simply pointing your camera toward a pretty tree. You must capture the emotion, and express why this moment, this location, this instant of light is important. You do that by allowing the light to illuminate the story. You are the writer, director, and producer of this story and it is your vision that is captured. 

 At the first image, something began to work. Like a machine, I moved to the left, then right, then back, then forward. With each shot, the compositions matured. Not sure how many images I managed that morning, but oddly enough, when I looked more closely at the result, the first few were the ones that stood out. First impressions almost always work that way.

The sun climbed a bit too high in the sky and the light within that channel began to grow much too harsh. By the time I arrived back home, I could not wait to take a look at the results. It's not often an image I take will generate the kind of response I felt. Usually it's something like...well, this one is pretty good, or, I can maybe salvage these two. The first couple of images I brought up on the screen caused me to verbally exclaimed, "Whoa...Oh my."

A Kentucky Indian Summer October day and a small little Kentucky creek salvaged my photography for the season. I had indeed grown complacent and uninspired, but, light has the ability to change your perspective and that in turn challenges your vision.