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Let's Go For A Ride on a Rocketship.
I had done these a while ago and never got around to posting. Images are from the usual sites, no credit necessary to me, use/modify as you like.
Lonely Tree, Lonely Moon
My Pennsylvania
Who hasn't dreamed of walking on the moon? Living on a moon base? Or even going beyond?
These trees, while alone in their fields, are joined together in their solidarity as they appear across France, Italy, Switzerland and Africa.
Over time I've seen a variety of icons about Pennsylvania - Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Amish scenes. I realized that while I may live in Pittsburgh and have travelled all over PA, that wasn't "my Pennsylvania."
To me PA is nearly endless mountains and verdant cool forests and crunchy brown leaves and tall wild onions. It's two-lane roads winding between epic cornfields, vast hills of confetti-like fall leaves, the yellow and purple shock of wildflowers along the snowline of a bare hilltop. It's hidden creeks and quiet streams and secret meadows, dusty barns that smell like leather and hay. It's small towns that survive just fine without a WalMart or McDonalds, where in the summer folks can sit behind planters of petunias on their front porch and wave to every car that slowly cruises past because they know that neighbor.
So here is an unfortunately brief glimpse of Pennsylvania through my eyes.
Lonely Tree, Lonely Moon
My Pennsylvania
Who hasn't dreamed of walking on the moon? Living on a moon base? Or even going beyond?
These trees, while alone in their fields, are joined together in their solidarity as they appear across France, Italy, Switzerland and Africa.
Over time I've seen a variety of icons about Pennsylvania - Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Amish scenes. I realized that while I may live in Pittsburgh and have travelled all over PA, that wasn't "my Pennsylvania."
To me PA is nearly endless mountains and verdant cool forests and crunchy brown leaves and tall wild onions. It's two-lane roads winding between epic cornfields, vast hills of confetti-like fall leaves, the yellow and purple shock of wildflowers along the snowline of a bare hilltop. It's hidden creeks and quiet streams and secret meadows, dusty barns that smell like leather and hay. It's small towns that survive just fine without a WalMart or McDonalds, where in the summer folks can sit behind planters of petunias on their front porch and wave to every car that slowly cruises past because they know that neighbor.
So here is an unfortunately brief glimpse of Pennsylvania through my eyes.