the flat, flat horizon
I feel good when I can see all the way to the edge, to that long and flat horizon. Those of you who live where there are hills and trees surely think I am deranged, but I don’t have any apologies.
I’ve not always been able to recognize or admit to my love of this flat place. It stated to change one summer night when we were staying in a cabin in the Colorado Rockies. A storm came up, with lots of thunder and lightning; usually storms like that are exciting, but this night I was edgy and restless and paced around the cabin until the last echos of thunder had faded. Later – several years later, because sometimes I am really slow about stuff – I began to understand the storm made me nervous because I wasn’t able to see where it was in relation to where I was. The so-called scenery was blocking my view! As you can imagine by looking at the photo, we can see a storm from miles and miles away: there’s comfort in that.
(Of course, with land this flat, there’s a whole genre of “it’s so flat that…” jokes, most of which are just as funny as you’d think. The only one I really like is “it’s so flat that if you stare long enough at the horizon, you can see the back of your head.”)
Hale County, Texas
photographed 8.10.2019
Posted on August 19, 2019, in Photography and tagged 365 photo project, black and white photography, flat land, hale county, hale county texas, horizon, learning to see, Leica, melinda green harvey, monochrome, one day one image, photo a day, photography, postaday, road trip, take time to look, texas, thoughtful seeing, travel photography. Bookmark the permalink. 12 Comments.
Not to ignore what you say about flat landscapes (and I’m living in one), but I like this lovely photograph for what it says about death and renewal.
LikeLike
My photographer friend Brett would be so happy that you found the metaphor in the photo, because he loves a good photographic metaphor. And I’m happy that you found it, too, because my mind wandered elsewhere, and I missed it. Thanks for pointing it out!
LikeLike
It all looked a bit lonely, until the wind turbines moved in….
LikeLike
But somehow, it’s getting lonelier out there, even as it gets filled with turbines – they take fewer humans to run them than the old farms and ranches did.
LikeLiked by 1 person
True
LikeLike
Superb scene and tones, Melinda.
LikeLike
Thank you, Frank.
LikeLiked by 1 person
No apologies needed. Stunning desolation.
LikeLike
Yeah, I can’t help it: I grew up on the Plains. (When I was in grad school in New Orleans, I’d sometimes go sit on the levee at Lake Pontchartrain just so I could look out into the distance.)
LikeLiked by 1 person
You gave plains. I have the ocean. The purpose is essentially the same.
LikeLike
Exactly. We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we?
LikeLiked by 1 person
True. It is essential.
LikeLiked by 1 person