Posted by Paul M. Garger On January 30, 2019
A wooden cross, stout but prominent, stands atop the small church on the eastern edge of the small town on the high plains.
And on Sundays when they gathered, the light of the day came streaming through a south facing window.
Be it blue sky and bright, or grey and overcast the light came in. Or be it stormy and dark, or the play of sunlight through drifting clouds, the Sunday light shone in from the south facing window. Through prayer and hymn and countless services the day’s light shone into the small church. And after a time on Sundays when no one came anymore they covered up the south facing window.
And the stout wooden cross atop the old church shows signs of the weather of the high plains.
Music: “Amazing Grace,” traditional. Played on an Alvarez acoustic electric cutaway guitar.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On November 5, 2018
Rolling fast out of the hills the long train of coal cars glides quietly, still over a mile away.
And the wind was cold and steady out of the north, the sun near to setting past the hills to the west.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On August 18, 2018
After the last forest fire it showed through, tucked back into the hills, a remnant of a time gone by.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On June 1, 2018
The gravel road meanders along the rocky remnants of a long distant past.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On February 8, 2018
It gets cold on the high plains. And it seems that nothing stirs, only the wind.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On November 24, 2017
The clouds moved ever so slow across the sky giving long stretches of warm sunshine. But the cold clung to the land, with powdery snows caught in the grasses and low spots.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On October 17, 2017
Near to the mountains there is a valley. It is broad across through the foothills. And lazily through it the muddy river winds its way.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On August 25, 2017
YOYO. As if the beast were living, with all of its movements and sounds and smells.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On July 5, 2017
A style, a beauty, and just enough chrome to catch the eye. The old red Plymouth sits in the small town on the high plains of Wyoming.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On May 6, 2017
The springtime songs of birds fill the air. And there is a muffled rush of the waters as the Powder River flows northward toward Montana and the Yellowstone River.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On April 12, 2017
The hillside overlooks a valley where there is a river that flows quietly. Out of the nearby mountains the waters of the river fell and raged downward through a canyon, but they flow quietly now through the foothills near the hillside.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On February 6, 2017
And in the distance the wind stirs the dry powdery snow making a haze. Though it is cold the sun is intense and bright in the afternoon sky giving a sense of warmth.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On December 18, 2016
The snows of winter have been slow in coming this year.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On November 15, 2016
Through the hills they wind, bands of steel. Laid out with a careful plan, to follow a grade, and never too steep. Snaking along on a pathway.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On October 19, 2016
From the first note there is togetherness. A journey of time and harmony and energy that wanders and meanders around and through all.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On June 18, 2016
On the red rock road the sun is warm, the rainstorms have passed and the meadowlarks sing their simple song.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On May 4, 2016
A simple commandment of field work is to always leave gates as you find them. And to some a wide open gate is the same as a sign stating “Welcome Friends – Hunt & Fish.”
Posted by Paul M. Garger On March 25, 2016
And when the empty coal train roared by it left trails of light marking its course. And a four wheeler left the bar and rolled along the road.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On March 6, 2016
They built them tall, they built them sturdy. And many still stand.
Posted by Paul M. Garger On February 18, 2016
It was a blustery and cold day in the valley.