Friday, August 26, 2011

The Golden Foothills

(Click on the thumbnail for the bigger, better version)

I have been seeing Highway 58 more regularly as a result of my physical therapy. Because I am so fond of the scenes along the way, this is not tedious for me. The seasons change and the look and feel of the landscape evolves. The rolling hills that, a few months ago, turned that rich—almost other-worldly green are now draped in golden brown with bits of deep rusty brown and and sprouts of a new, more subdued green here and there. To me, the foothills are equally beautiful now despite the change in finery. Simpler garb, in the eyes of some—less showy, but I find the hills equally beautiful with their starkness, clarity, and plain-spoken manner. The golden foothills rising against the blue sky have a regal quality and a dignity that is just as seductive as the exuberant and luxurious green of spring.

Along with the pleasure I take in the colors and shapes of the hills, I am fascinated by the fences that wander—in what almost seems an aimless manner—up, down, and across the hills—zigging and zagging for reasons that aren't obvious. I can lose myself in the patterns of those lines.

When I was a child, my family took road trips on weekends for entertainment. When conversation tapered off and my siblings were tired of playing, I fantasized about riding my dream horse through the fields that slid by. Of course, when my mount and I came to a fence—mostly plain and simple affairs like the one here—we sailed over it effortlessly, scoffing at boundary markers, and continuing our race with the car.

Maybe that is when I was first drawn to fences. After all, to a carefree child, they weren't serious impediments. They were minor obstacles—obstacles that were meant to be sailed over. Hurdles meant to be greeted with relish and vanquished with glee. Ah, all is possible in the mind of an innocent.

17 comments:

  1. There is something about a fence line running up a slope and vanishing behind the crest of the hill that makes me wonder what's on the other side.

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  2. Anita, this lovely image looks almost abstract or perhaps painting like. At very first glance of the thumbnail it also reminded me of sand dunes with the softness looking like blowing sand. Funny how quickly our mind tries to make sense or fill in the missing pieces. In any case, I like it and how it lends itself to interpretation. Have a good weekend!

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  3. Steve - A man afer my own heart. I fall for these scenes every time. I need a special hard drive for pictures of fences and roads or trails disappearing over the tops of hills. They always whisper, "Follow me. There are wonderful discoveries just over the crest." thank you for the comment.

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  4. I used to think (in my youth) that fences were obstacles, meant to be overcome. Now I view them as necessary boundaries, either meant to keep things contained or keep something else out. I understand (and accept) the necessity. Not only that, but they can be photogenic, as you have shown. What a keen eye you have.

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  5. Earl - Thank you for this comment. Sometimes, I try to manage these pieces and temporarily lose my confidence. Am I going too far, this time? Will this affect anyone else, or is it too personal? I am so pleased to know that you enjoyed "completing" this and filling in the blanks. Since that is precisely the effect I hope to achieve, I am a happy woman. Thanks,again.

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  6. Ken - I like this way of seeing fences. It says a geat deal about you—all good, in my opinion. My own emotional response is not nearly so well thought out, but you have made coherent what is a jumble of feelings in my mind. Thank you for that and for the kind compliment.

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  7. This is a lovely image - I love the rolling hills and the golden grass, and the zig-zagging fences are the perfect counterpoint.

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  8. Hey, Anita. I love these types of shots. I remember back in Texas, I used to see these types of landscapes frequently if I drove outside of Dallas, to the south; however, the terrain wasn't exactly what you would call 'hilly'. :) More like few gentle rises here and there, but there was sure plenty of gold color throughout the summer and precious little green.

    The fences, for some reason, are fascinating. I wondered why they zigged and zagged. Did they follow the property line or perhaps some geography?

    I see that in your youth, you were an intrepid trespasser in your dreams. You rebel!!! LOL

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  9. I too wonder where the tracks in the grass go. What's on the other side of the hill. I too like a minimalist landscapes like this. The colors are so calming - they are meant to go together. Reminds me of the golden wheat fields that are awaiting harvest right now.

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  10. JP - Thanks for the comment. I love the hills bare; but, yes, those fences bring it all together.

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  11. Paul - While I have never spent much time in the Dallas area, I remember it as being pretty flat. I think it is safe to say that green is a welcome sign of spring in much of the southwest. And, that green doesn't survive into summer.

    Your question about the fences has me thinking even more about that zigging and zagging. I suspect that it is related to a number of things. I know that it is not always about property lines. A rancher fences off any number of pastures on his land. In some cases, the seemingly random lines are probably related to nothing more than topography. I guess I have a research project.

    Oh, yeah, I was a wild one in those early years. ;-)

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  12. Roberta - Those lines set off the imagination, don't they? We don't seem to have those miles of wheat fields around here. But when I have seen them, I always found them inspirational. You live in a beautiful part of our gorgeous planet.

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  13. A fence makes for a great leading line. I also am fond of them. I remember them from my childhood when visiting my relatives in the Texas/Oklahoma panhandle area. Lots of barb wire fences there.

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  14. Another great image and story to go along with it Anita. You are really coming into your own with your textured images here. I dabble, but you seem to really embrace it. The posts along the right side are an important element for me. As the fence leads you off into the distance, the posts bring you right back in.

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  15. Mark - I appreciate your encouragement on my texturing binge. You are, after all, somewhat responsible. I had experimented with texture overlays, but never got any place I wanted to go. Your "dabbling" piqued my interest and now it is somewhat an obsession. I stopped "trying to invent the wheel" and learned from you and others. Thank you, again, for posting your work that got me thinking about the technique.

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  16. Monte -Goodness, if you have seen parts of the Texas panhandle, you have seen true barb wire country. I have seen fascinating (to me) articles about all the types of barb wire and which ones were popular in what areas of the west and during what periods. There was quite an evolution. It has it's dangers and disadvantages; but in the wide open spaces and in areas where it takes a great deal of land to feed one cow, economy was crucial. Thanks for your comment.

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  17. Mark - I forgot to acknowledge your observation about the posts on the right. I was quite happy with that bonus in the scene. Thanks for mentioning it.

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Anita