Front Porch Indiana: Jack. Over here, Jack.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Jack. Over here, Jack.

Poor bugger is blind as a bat. Doesn't even realize he's not looking at the camera.

5 comments:

bennie and patsy said...: Poor old Jack, was just looking for that Bob. LOL; January 4, 2009 at 1:46 PM
angelandspot said...: I am sorry he is blind. Nice photo of his backside though.; January 4, 2009 at 2:04 PM
Milah said...: I think Jack is a little self- conscience.....he's probably trying to show you his good side.; January 4, 2009 at 3:19 PM
Amy said...: Poor guy. Lovely roo though.; January 4, 2009 at 6:51 PM
Carol said...: Some mighty fine looking tail feathers.; January 5, 2009 at 7:58 PM

Favorite Quotes

Favorite Poetry

The creaking silence of age.

I like Old.

Great Depression

worn-in (not worn-out)

favorite quilt

classic car.

I like the way Old feels.

Sheets washed a thousand times

frayed around the stitching

busting from stories.

I like the way Old sounds.

Creaky wooden floors

heaters that pop and snap

doors that slam like they really mean it!

I like the way Old looks.

chipped paint

worn corners

rust

not from neglect or carelessness, but from use.

I'd live in an Old house

with a big Old front porch.

One that heaves to tell me someone is home

and echos of little feet running across it.

I like Old.

~Holy Glasgow

THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry