There are going to be a lot of pics here. A reminder to self about vacations. What they really are. How they can change things. How sometimes they have to be “recovered” from. I went into this one with a really screwed up, painful ear, and it prevailed. Colored the days. Messed with balance. Provided unwanted discomfort–but then, when is discomfort truly wanted? I’m talking to myself. There will be little commentary. You may not want to proceed. Won’t hurt my feelings–because I remember times when I found myself having to sit through family pictures. Not my family. Maybe not even a family I knew. So, caveat emptor….
Early Morning, Pawley’s Island
Boy Child
Mother of Boy Child
I Was Just a Shadow of Self
and then a few days back before scheduled trip to WV. To son. 
A few days frantically dealing with finding a new home for Juno. WV–not a place for Juno–WV called “wild and wonderful” for a reason. She auditioned in several homes. Each time it looked like it would work, but one thing after another made it a no-go. After three months, time was running out. Then two nights before leaving, she was offered up in a native medicine ceremony. Turned over to the universe–released to her destiny and her highest good. Those intentions held in each knot of the red cord–
along with reminders to self that I am not the bus driver. That I am also simply a passenger on this amazing ride. So…to trust. A reminder to trust.
–and as the clock was striking midnight, a call came in. From West Palm Beach, FL. Yep. She had been spotted on “petfinder.” And yes, I explained her idiosyncrasies and her personality. And yes, all of that was just fine. Simply perfect. So. Juno’s angel sent a van for her and she rode all night to Florida where her name is now Dali and she is referred to as “her ladyship.”
Ear was some better at this point–and trip to WV on-go…so, the reasons for trip:
Beauty Full wife-of-man child
Man Child
View from Porch
Something called a Ranger
Old County Road
Series of pics on old county road when the camera freaked out along with the photographer. Happened all on its own. I’m guessing because of the bouncing and tilting and feeling of imminent doom.
But it righted itself. Just that one blip. Then this overhang:
and finally our destination. Nuttallburg
heavy with the sense that “others” were still there…walking among the trees, leaning on the old foundations of schools and boarding houses. Working the coal. Stoking the coke ovens. A viable town from 1870 to 1956. Right ON the banks of the New River. The Nuttallburg link, if you check it out, mentions John Nuttall from England sensing “opportunity.” And I think of how so little has really change, for WV is still viewed as a commodity. Not as a beautiful part of the country to be preserved, but as opportunity for industry, for capitalist, for profit.
monolithic right-of-way marker next to foundation of old school–celtic-like
Refurbished coal tipple, prettied up
pillars of an old church.
West Virginia. Yep.
just a bit more–
View from Beauty Mountain, Fayette County, WV
Rhododendron in bloom
Rusty scrap from the tipple–oh the cloth it would color
Young hens just started laying
Breaking through the fear of 4-wheeling
and finally, clearly time to head home….
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