Tuesday, March 19, 2019

Melting Snow to Slushy Mud

On Saturday I spent the day with Jeff. He had been clamoring for ages for us to spend a day out photographing. The last time his camera had been used was for Trump's inauguration and he was chomping at the bit to go out. We didn't have any hard and fast plans so we just headed towards the mountains and back roads to see what we could find. The fields and mountains were still blanketed with snow, tree branches had snow draped over them, I was amazed at how much snow there was left. It wasn't deep but covered the ground enough to add texture and interest to our photos.
 I drove to this old mill which Richard had shown us a few weeks previously. It gave us a chance to 'warm up' and get the shutters clicking. The snow was melting fast, heavy watery clods plopped to the ground as we walked under branches, occasional blobs hitting our heads and shoulders. I had packed hand warmers but we didn't need them, the day was warming up fast.
Large clumps of daffodils thrust bright green leaves upwards outside an old abandoned house. I was a little envious as I have no bulbs at all outside my own home, the previous owner had apparently not been a gardener and each day I keenly searched the ground for shoots poking through the soil, and each day was disappointed. I'll be ensuring that plenty of bulbs are planted this year so I can look forward to a springtime garden next year.. There's nothing as wonderful tas seeing new plants poking through the dead leaves, breaking up the monotony of the browns and greys to herald the arrival of warmer weather.
We stopped at these little chalets snuggled under trees at the base of the mountains. They've never been well maintained. Last year someone had turned one of them into a vape store but that obviously hadn't lasted and now they stand empty again, slowly disintegrating. As we stood on the roadside with our cameras the head of an elderly gentleman poked over the top of the neighboring house, which was also in a dilapidated condition, and I thought he told us to move off. Jeff and I scuttled towards the car. It wouldn't have surprised me to see a shotgun barrel being hoisted towards over the top of that fence, these rural folk are all armed.

 Apart from the elderly gentleman there seemed to be nobody about the small town. Few vehicles passed us and no one was out walking. It seemed really odd for a Saturday. We drove up to the mountain top where the clouds hung low and dense like a thick fog. It was a completely different weather system up here. The temperature was a good 20 degrees colder and the snow still 4" deep. A brisk wind whipped across the open spaces and although there were a few cars in the parking lot, the occupants couldn't be seen anywhere. The Skyline Drive has been closed for a couple of weeks with the winter storms, fallen trees and snapped boughs blocking roads and trails.It was impressive at how much the weather differed within a couple of miles as we'd climbed up the steep roads. We walked about for a few minutes but it was soon apparent that Jeff wasn't relishing the cold. We bundled back into the car and drove back down the mountain to search for somewhere to eat lunch.
 Snow. Now you see it now you don't. We stopped for lunch in Culpeper and didn't even spend an hour in the restaurant, yet when we were back on the road it appeared to be a different day, all the snow had gone! Apart from a few patches under trees or in ditches it had completely melted. The mountains were still clinging on to their white capes but the foothills and valleys were now muddy browns with a few patches of green grass, bright and clean after its wash with the snow.
In Luray, I had to stop when I spotted Paul Bunyan standing in front of an old building. This was a wood restoration business, I hope  they give Paul a new paint job soon, he looked a little tatty.
We chose the back roads once again and were soon driving down narrow lanes, with old barns and the occasional abandoned house struggling to remain upright.
Jeff particularly liked this old place and I could see why. Although empty and beginning to give in to gravity, greatly assisted by a fallen tree on its roof, its empty windows were like dark ominous maws against the pale paintwork. The grey day was adding nicely to the mood and although we laughed at the scene, I don't think either of us would have sniggered if we'd been on our own. Around the back was an old shed which made me chuckle when as I stepped inside saw that it had once been a man cave, their drunken trophies pinned to the walls and propped up on the window ledge.
The Skyline Drive in the distance looked majestic, the snow complimenting the contours of the peaks and ridges, grey and white clouds caught up in the range and adding a stormy backdrop. It was like the mountains belonged to another land, were part of a magical fantasy in the distance. We stood and just stared at them for a while as the clouds rolled and swirled around over the highest points.
Our last stop was HillBilly's Junkyard. I love this place and had dropped in a couple of weeks previously to get a couple of shot glasses.

Today, the owner was away but one of his friends was drilling holes in his truck bed to attach a bed box and didn't hesitate to let us roam about so we could take photos. He bent over the back of his truck, drill grinding loudly into the metal and blared obscenities as he bore down on his task. Jeff and I grinned at each other and explored. The 'office' has always been a magnet to me. I love the clutter and lighting but wished the owner had been here for a portrait photo. I guess another trip will have to be made soon. We slopped through the mud and sludge of the yard to try and find the vintage vehicles I'd photographed years ago, but we didn't see them. There were many newer cars stacked up and it seemed a bulldozer had been in here, pushing many of the wrecks to one side or stacked them on top of one another. I looked behind piles of rusted wrecks for treasures but failed to find any. We were losing interest anyway since the snow melt, along with the 'dozer tracks, had made the whole yard a quagmire. I slipped a couple of times and with huge clods of mug stuck to our boots, we slumped our way back to the car, where our friend was still cursing over his task. I don't think he even saw us pull away. For us it was time to head back to The Blue House and have a beer.

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