Forgotten Yet Found

I was out of town last weekend in southeastern Oklahoma around a lovely huge lake. I brought photographs of a few things I loved. I am personally obsessed with rust. It could be called patina which is a lovely word. My own face exhibits the patina of joy and time. Sounds good, but plain ol' rust is so beautiful, broken down and virulent.

'Round here we call this fence bob ware. I thought it was a man's name for a while, from Steinbeck, his horse was named Doxology. Look at this chaos of vines blossoming freely around this bob ware fence.

Patina is the natural progression of red paint, weather and time.

This is like the ink blot test. I see a butterfly.

This was near an all-but-abandoned trailer. Dear iris still push through, unattended. A bird bath perches on this rock, dry but unmoved.

The enormous rock beside the road is the size of a box van. In the center lies a perfect fossil of a fish. No doubt it swam in salt water right in the big 'ol dry middle of Oklahoma.

I call this "consumption."

What was built by man, let nature put asunder...