I saw my friend Dan, whom I’ve known for many years, today at the barbershop. His friendly demeanor made my day. We both worked for the University and have similar experiences. Dan is an uplifter. He never leaves me without feeling better for the experience. Friends are a blessing. The only quandary is that Dan is getting younger and I am getting older. Such is life, we think; when we count years, it seems long, but in reality, it is short.

I like pocket knives. I have been an aficionado of the little friends for many years. We visited Gatlinburg, Tennessee, regularly in the past, and during our visit, we attended a massive flea market in Kingsport, Tennessee. I set out each Christmas to visit the Market, not to purchase fleas but rather one or two old Case Knives from a little old lady who knew her product. I felt like a king with my antique Case Knives in my pocket. My friend epitomized my love for Tennessee. She was shrewd and friendly and would negotiate a fair price.

Christmas was fun with our friends Faye and Steve. They had moved to Kingsport in the 90s, and we were the first guests in their new home. I remember the peaceful feeling I had as MJ and I enjoyed the guest bedroom and looked at their collection of Dr. Tom Clark’s Gnomes. We were big Gnome collectors and had the privilege of meeting Tom on a couple of occasions. His works of art drew us into the lives he was portraying. Ezra the Farmer was one of our first acquisitions. In those days, Cracker Barrel Restaurants carried Tom’s works. This was our Art collection before we went to Fine Art in the late 90s.

Woods brings me peace. I go almost every day. It is always new to me. When I take a photo of Woods, I want the viewer to have the same excitement that I experienced when I snapped the shot. Woods is a natural high. Perhaps not a Rocky Mountain High, my available High. Giant City State Park is 15 miles from my home. I hear the strangest sounds when I am photographing the rocks of GC. I think it is an animal, but I can not discern what animal.

Yesterday, a woman dressed in a dress down to her feet stopped to swing on the children’s swings while I was at Woods. She appeared spectral and etheral. I waved at her as I was entering the Subaru, but she did not acknowledge me. She seemed to be walking towards me as I pulled out of the parking area. She was pale and walked to the swings and swung for a minute or two at the most. Then she returned to her car.

Who are we, and why are we here? Is our purpose to make as much money as possible so that our name will be placed on the Big Earner’s Board? Are we here to feel the rhythm of the Earth and our purpose and place in it? Bob Dylan told us that we are going to serve somebody. Why not serve our inner peace?