A Dutch “Fietspad”
“Jog on, jog on, the footpath way, And merrily bent the stile-a;” wrote Shakespeare, however, the long and foreboding shadows barred our travelling further.
Broken Tombstone ~ BROKEN HEART
The graves of Tabitha and her family are not only forgotten; they are abused, vandalized and desecrated by those who now live in upscale suburban homes upon the very Virginia land that Tabitha and James Grimseley once cared for and farmed. It is a heartbreaking disgrace for neighbors of a cemetery to treat it with such disrespect.
Grimesley Family Cemetery, Chancellor Way, near the corner of Mulberry Bottom Lane, Saratoga, Virginia (Google Map) is an old family cemetery in southern Fairfax County, Virginia, located between two suburban homes. There are carved markers for James Grimesley, his wife Tabitha, Augustine W. Grimsley, and his wife Mary. There are other unreadable stones and field-stone markers, that with each passing season are blanketed higher and higher with grass clippings, garden debris and other refuse from the living neighbors of these dead Virginians. Rubbish is dumped upon the earthly remains of these immortal souls because the present caretakers of God’s land regard the former caretakers as naught but rubbish also. More at Saving Graves.
James and Tabitha were once vibrant living beings when they lived upon this land and their names are recorded for posterity on the 1880 Census of Fairfax County in the Lee District. (James GRIMSLEY – Farming)
I purchased this terracotta frog ornament when I was living in Seoul, South Korea in the mid 1970s and he has decorated my gardens thence forth wherever in the world I have settled. He is one hardy soul as both his hands have suffered amputations at the hands of various less-than-caring maintenance people. Each morning he sits greeting Neddy’s world with a smile on his face. No more faithful service could be expected from anyone, much less a clay froggy.
From “My August Garden” album
Clark’s Chapel ~~ The congregants of this old time country church, that now exists in the middle of the suburbs, take great pride in their place of worship, as this image shows.
“There’s a little white church in the valley
That stands in my memory each day
And it seems I can hear the bells now ringing
Though I am many miles away
“And many times in church on Sunday morning
That whole countryside would gather there
They would all kneel down by the altar
As they lifted up their voice in prayer
“They would sing the old song Rock of Ages
Oh Christ let me hide myself in thee
And I know some of them are now waiting
Just o’er the dark and stormy sea
“I know that troubles all are ended
And happy forever they will be
They are waiting and watching up yonder
For the coming home of you and me”
~~”Little White Church” by Jimmy Martin
Clark’s Church is one of those “little white churches” yet found on Virginia byways and highways. This one can be seen from Rolling Road, in the Saratoga area of Springfield, Virginia, July 2006.
Kinderdijk, The Netherlands
“On either side, the banks of the Medway, covered with cornfields and pastures, with here and there a windmill, or a distant church, stretched away as far as the eye could see, presenting a rich and varied landscape, rendered more beautiful by the changing shadows which passed swiftly across it as the thin and half-formed clouds skimmed away in the light of the morning sun.” ~~”The Posthumous Papers Of The Pickwick Club” by Charles Dickens
The Cathedral of Saint Bavon, Ghent. Belgium (12th Century).
Through the glass case I see the most beautiful doll ever made for a child.
“You see, when you’re hunting for the glad things, you sort of forget the other kind–like the doll you wanted, you know.” ~~”Pollyanna” by Eleanor H. Porter
the Wonders of Life – Buttercups on the Old Battlefield
She searches for Buttercups upon the Bull Run Battlefield, where, as God says, each little blossom of sunshine grows from the droplets of soldier blood fallen upon the soil so long ago.
I entered the door of the greenhouse at Hillwood Gardens and I found myself to be the only human in an enchanted orchid jungle. No orchids anywhere in the entire world could be happier than those living in this perfect environment. It was July 2006, in Washington DC.
If I were a cat, I would want to be Katy Blue.