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| Near Kief, North Dakota, September 2010 |
I've spent the past 2 days in a right state, fearing the loss of ALL my 2010 digital photos into the netherworld of Aperture, Apple's photo filing system. My feelings have gone from incredulity to...yes, pure loathing for my computer. I even imagined life without this arbitrary tool. Things really started to look dark when my Apple One-to-One tutor couldn't find my photos.
When I got home I scrutinized-for the 50th time-where the elusive images could be. Then, just as magically as they vanished I discovered them in a drop down option in File, called Switch Library. There they were, all 800 of them, in another Library I didn't know I had. Pretty cool that I figured it out myself. But it was a searing experience. Believe it or not this is the less painful way to prompt a procrastinator like myself to buy an external hard drive, which I now own, as of yesterday.
So, before anything else untoward occurs, here's another installment of our northern journey, to North Dakota, that near treeless terrain where sky, cloud and wind reigns.
The eye plays tricks on one here...it's not as flat as one supposes. In the East the grass is longer, further West, shorter due to less rainfall.
It's like a glimpse from the past to walk for miles and see no other living soul, knowing that there's maybe two people per square mile. It'a almost a spiritual state, the closest I've been to what it must be like to sail alone out of sight of land. You either go squirrelly or become curious about that vast sky, the grass, the animals. It's just you and the BIG. You are tested here, in the land of few techno distractions. Dan and Marian ace this test. They're souls of the prairie, born and reared here, so much a part of this landscape they're not at peace when too long parted. They know this country like the backs of their hands, its cadence and measure, the big buck down by the slough, the pheasants' flurry when vehicles pass on the road, the snowy owl in the old cottonwood tree by the barn, when the June berries are ripe, and where the teepee rings are up on Letvin Hill. They know how to sow, tend and harvest a good life from this land. They're the richest people I know.
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| Jim collecting wildflowers on the way to the mailbox |
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| Carol with Dan & Marian |
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| Preparing the harvest for dinner, Dan carving the roast & out the sliders the limitless view of the hills |
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| Cucumbers, tomatoes, squash, potatoes & corn from the garden near the house |







What a delightful trip you must have had. Really interesting pictures.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful trip, Carol! I am glad you found your photos in the grain of sand of your computer memory.
ReplyDeleteIleana Johnson
glad for your trip..but if I could reckon anything it would be a fall of colors..and with mountains...
ReplyDeleteGreat photos. I love Duluth, but I miss those scenes.
ReplyDeleteGood morning all & thank you for sharing your impressions. A perfect analogy, Ileana...just the right touch of awesome possibilities of errors. Yikes.
ReplyDeleteIt was a great trip...we savored the largest body of water in the continental U.S., Lake Superior in Duluth & Bayfield, Wisconsin, one of the finest boreal forests of Minnesota and the grasslands of central North Dakota. Each an inspiration and memorable. I'm intrigued how different environments suit different folks. Friends in Duluth are transplants there but loved it beyond count. But when prompted feel the same nostalgic affinity I do. Friends in ND are lifers, knowing each nook & cranny. Few people can make such a claim about their place in the world.
I live in northern Virginia, a landscape that a Texas friend told me was the most beautiful she'd ever seen when we were preparing to move here. The Piedmont borderland is stunning but it doesn't cause my soul to sing quite as melodiously as MN & ND.
oh scary! because I too use Aperture ~ a close call with a lucky outcome for your blog followers.
ReplyDeleteJim looks happy, as do you. I couldn't live for long with nothing between me and the horizon. I guess sailing out of sight of land is different because you're heading for land, not making your home in the middle of the ocean.
Kevin prefers vast vistas where "you can see your enemies coming." I want places to hide from them!
Sally, I trust you have a handy external hard drive as backup for your awesome photos.
ReplyDelete'Love your analogy about landscapes. As cowboys say, "It pays to be shifty in new country."