A day in Tallassee with Brownie Hawkeye

Recently I went to Tallassee with friends and we walked around the dam and the Civil War armory. I was kind of scared to enter the armory, as it was surrounded by fences and barbed wire, but my roommate just shoved aside a loose part of the chain link fence and walked in. Cars were going by and nobody seemed to care that we were there. I had my grandfather's Brownie Hawkeye camera and a roll of Portra 160 film.

Tallapoosa River just downstream of Thurlow Dam 

Armory ruins

Part of the armory complex

Mon ombre

Another part of the armory

This looked like some kind of meeting hall.

St. Vincent de Paul Parish, frequently photographed on the outside on this blog. This is the interior.

Wauxamaka Creek

So, the little creek that runs by my uncle's pastures has a name: Wauxamaka Creek. I assume this is a Muskogee name, given that the Creek Indians had a settlement here.

A bend in Wauxamaka Creek
Fuji Neopan Acros 100 film
Zero2000 pinhole camera
Green filter

Ego Sum Resurrectio Et Vita

A photo from my trip to Indiana last month. It's the cemetery at Ss. Philomena & Cecilia Oratory.

It's from my first roll of slide film. Shot on Fuji Provia 100F.

Going Lensless

With all the hundreds or thousands of dollars I've spent on camera equipment over the years, it amazes me what kinds of photos can be taken by a wooden box with a little hole in the front.

Comer Hall at Auburn, pinhole camera / Ektar 100 film

Now, granted, there is a loss of sharpness, but the images (especially the color ones I've done so far) are quite striking to me.

Mexican tarragon

One plant I liked seeing around this year was an herb I've never paid much attention to before. Mexican tarragon, Tagetes lucida. Being in the genus Tagetes, it is closely related to the ornamental marigolds. Another name for it is Mexican marigold. I'd like to try to grow more plants from this genus in the future.

Mexican tarragon growing in the garden at Kiesel Park

More photos I took while at Kiesel Park

Garden shed

Nunn-Winston House

Zinnias and hay bales

I took these with my new Hasselblad camera and Kodak Portra 400 film.

I also took a photo of the house with my pinhole camera and Ektar 100 film.

Garden update

The leaves are changing fast here in Alabama. We've had a few cold mornings but no frost. Two weeks ago I received the daffodils I ordered from Old House Gardens. I planted them all in pots. With the cool weather and rain, the daffodils are sending up leaves already, especially the Tazetta and Jonquilla cultivars. 

I have them growing in my modification of the 5-1-1 mix: five parts Reptibark (fir bark sold for reptile tanks), one part sifted perlite, one part peat-based potting soil. I like this mix because water penetrates it quickly and thoroughly, even when dry, and yet it holds enough water not to need to water every day. Plus, it lasts a long time. When I repotted the daffodils I planted in this mix last year, the mix looked brand new still. A downside of this mix is that it requires more frequent watering and dilute fertilizing at (optimally) every watering. I use a teaspoon of Miracle Gro per gallon and apply it with a sprayer tank.

My rose, 'Mutabilis' is looking fantastic. It's an antique China rose with single, five-petaled flowers. They change in color as they age, from pink to salmon to rose to peach to yellow to almost white. Thus the shrub looks multicolored. The leaves are dark green with tinges of purple or burgundy. I love this rose.

Salvia 'Van Houttei' is also blooming. It's the same species (S. splendens) as the red bedding salvias often seen at malls and shopping centers, but 'Van Houttei' grows 5 feet tall and has purple or burgundy flowers in fall. The flowers are lovely, but the plants look yellow and leggy. I would perhaps cut them back to be more bushy in the future, and provide richer soil so the leaves look more lush.

The Sternbergia lutea sent up leaves, but so far no flowers. I may have to wait until next year for flowers.

My citrus trees are looking great. This year I should have Buddha's hand citrons, Chinotto oranges, and golden bean kumquats. I recently bought a small Australian finger lime tree. It's the oddest citrus I've grown yet. The limes are elongated and green or reddish when ripe. When cut open, the inside contains little translucent spheres that look like caviar. Some chefs sprinkle them on salads. The flavor is like lime, sour and aromatic. I haven't had a fruit on my tree yet, but I tried one when I went to Birmingham a few weeks ago. I also repotted my tree in the 5-1-1 mix.

The daffodil seeds I planted in the spring are germinating now. They look like little grass leaves!

Absolve Domine

Driving down from Indianapolis to Brookville this Sunday morning, the expanses of straw-colored corn and soy fields and the little two-story white farm houses gave way to steep declines, rocky streams, winding roads, and flame-leaved maples. On a narrow road that jetted out of downtown Brookville and crossed a river, I drove along the valley, finally mounting a hill with an old German church and a spruce-walled graveyard. It was Ss. Philomena and Cecilia Oratory. In an outbuilding the choir was practicing. Two boys stood at the front, opening the doors for parishioners. A tall slim priest sat in the rear confessional, curtain pulled to the side. A few old ladies with their mantilla'd daughters sat quietly with their rosaries. An altar boy scurried from one side of the high altar to the other, lighting two candles as carefully as possible while keeping a reverent distance from the oriental rug at the altar's base.

I came to this place years ago, to see a new place, happy with friends whom I can no longer see, and I came again because I believed I wanted to see that old place where only memories remain. But what I saw was not an old place, but a place that is always new. And I prayed Mass by my friend's little girl, with her cheerful deep brown eyes and her rose-laced veil, whom he was never able to see in this life. Those whispered Latin orations were falling on fresh ears, and my ears freshly, ever old and ever new, as they say. Who would have known back in 2009 that I would be here again seeing these things and feeling what I was now feeling. What a strange and wonderful world this is.

My iPad had only a few songs on it, which I browsed when I ran out of podcasts. One was the tract from the traditional requiem Mass, which I listened to over and over as I drove down those windy roads. And I got the gift of tears.

Absolve, O Lord,

the souls of all the faithful departed

from every bond of sin.

And by the help of Thy grace

may they be enabled to escape the avenging judgment.

And enjoy the bliss of everlasting light.