tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74479678596008797812012-02-11T19:41:41.909-05:00words and images to ponderDan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comBlogger1891100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-82924885016322251922012-02-11T19:37:00.004-05:002012-02-11T19:41:41.917-05:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VinoOlZAcUQ/TzcKMafQTrI/AAAAAAAAAg8/_4YzQ8cj280/s1600/world_in_changes.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708042261100514994" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VinoOlZAcUQ/TzcKMafQTrI/AAAAAAAAAg8/_4YzQ8cj280/s400/world_in_changes.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><i>Cinquin and image by Dan Hardison</i><br /><i>Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Jan/Feb 2011<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-8292488501632225192?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-85198721552384738992012-02-03T20:39:00.002-05:002012-02-03T20:43:28.526-05:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8sc-3qlyDyM/TyyM8nEFMWI/AAAAAAAAAgw/ZoM5AmPrwaY/s1600/all_that_glitters.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705089800877715810" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8sc-3qlyDyM/TyyM8nEFMWI/AAAAAAAAAgw/ZoM5AmPrwaY/s400/all_that_glitters.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison</i><br /><i>Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, January 2012<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-8519872155238473899?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-39723303397587936182012-01-20T20:59:00.004-05:002012-01-20T21:05:26.305-05:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O2BM5YGq3Sk/TxocHYUvGrI/AAAAAAAAAgk/izzuW1hyqe4/s1600/fallen.jpg"><img style="width: 286px; height: 400px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699899191504870066" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O2BM5YGq3Sk/TxocHYUvGrI/AAAAAAAAAgk/izzuW1hyqe4/s400/fallen.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>The lily was the first to die, as rose petals fell one by one. The greenery turned to brown, as daisies bowed their heads. Birthday, anniversary, or in sorrow – the occasion does not matter. Thoughts of their sender will linger . . . long after the flowers are gone.<br /><br />the soft glow of light<br />as nighttime begins to pass<br />steady and serene<br /><br /><i>— Dan Hardison</i><br /><br /><br /><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Haibun, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Sep/Oct 2011</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-3972330339758793618?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-79363417875438420082012-01-06T20:00:00.002-05:002012-01-06T20:04:38.198-05:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i1WCFm0-1RE/TweZcQClGEI/AAAAAAAAAgY/1QhfuDOl4ws/s1600/goodbye.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694688964454455362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i1WCFm0-1RE/TweZcQClGEI/AAAAAAAAAgY/1QhfuDOl4ws/s400/goodbye.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><i>Cinquin and image by Dan Hardison</i><br /><i>Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Mar/Apr 2011<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-7936341787543842008?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-28862597511279217982011-12-23T21:05:00.000-05:002011-12-24T10:27:22.220-05:00<div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jrao_aylSws/TvE_W5mu94I/AAAAAAAAAgA/X8aK0KSGoAQ/s1600/days_of_christmas.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 293px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688397466998601602" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jrao_aylSws/TvE_W5mu94I/AAAAAAAAAgA/X8aK0KSGoAQ/s400/days_of_christmas.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div></div><div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvHRvbk5_xc/TvE_fzFgB7I/AAAAAAAAAgM/2HUzRk4e3Cw/s1600/days_of_christmas_2.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 286px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688397619867420594" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvHRvbk5_xc/TvE_fzFgB7I/AAAAAAAAAgM/2HUzRk4e3Cw/s400/days_of_christmas_2.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><i>Words and image by Dan Hardison</i><br /><i>Image: Collage from old Christmas wrapping paper</i><br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-2886259751127921798?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-59154202612622306282011-12-16T20:50:00.001-05:002011-12-16T20:54:11.115-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zi-pL8_duUw/Tuv1n-FklUI/AAAAAAAAAf0/Gppb3aD74XU/s1600/walking_the_path.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686909021515453762" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zi-pL8_duUw/Tuv1n-FklUI/AAAAAAAAAf0/Gppb3aD74XU/s400/walking_the_path.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><i>Cinquin and image by Dan Hardison</i><br /><i>Photo: Cookeville, Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquin, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Nov/Dec 2010 <br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5915420261262230628?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-56501191907044298702011-12-02T20:39:00.000-05:002011-12-02T20:39:00.360-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SZe26imceCg/TtbbEoT2tEI/AAAAAAAAAfo/fGP48mrrbV8/s1600/last_leaf_hanging_on.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680968852561114178" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SZe26imceCg/TtbbEoT2tEI/AAAAAAAAAfo/fGP48mrrbV8/s400/last_leaf_hanging_on.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison</i><br /><i>Image: color woodblock print</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, November 2011 <br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5650119190704429870?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-89330146876544716642011-11-11T21:36:00.002-05:002011-11-11T21:38:55.473-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4kPR7qwVL5g/Tr3b5f47A5I/AAAAAAAAAfc/q3AKkV-RkUc/s1600/crooked_is_the_road.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673932886415967122" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4kPR7qwVL5g/Tr3b5f47A5I/AAAAAAAAAfc/q3AKkV-RkUc/s400/crooked_is_the_road.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><i>Tanka and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Cookeville, Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br />Tanka, <a href="http://www.magnapoets.com/">Magnapoets</a> - Issue 8, July 2011 <br /><br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-8933014687654471664?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-49154582006992150862011-11-04T20:13:00.003-04:002011-11-04T20:15:48.833-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vORL9pC3oZA/TrR_4tNN-7I/AAAAAAAAAfI/5L4E_AqG0no/s1600/whispers_in_the_wind.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671298442950736818" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vORL9pC3oZA/TrR_4tNN-7I/AAAAAAAAAfI/5L4E_AqG0no/s400/whispers_in_the_wind.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison</i><br /><i>Photo: Cookeville, Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, October 2011<br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4915458200699215086?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-54065586710480828522011-10-21T20:31:00.002-04:002011-10-21T20:34:17.888-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZDZamFoOJok/TqIPQyMZs_I/AAAAAAAAAe8/YpnbiZLo8y0/s1600/the_dancer_bows.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666108062211617778" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZDZamFoOJok/TqIPQyMZs_I/AAAAAAAAAe8/YpnbiZLo8y0/s400/the_dancer_bows.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Mixed media</i><br /><br /><br />Haiku, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> Haiku Thread- Sep/Oct 2010 <br /><br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5406558671048082852?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-64045858494080700502011-10-14T20:39:00.002-04:002011-10-21T20:29:07.641-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wxg3ZdskY8U/TpjWaEsSowI/AAAAAAAAAew/R_nnzNctdmY/s1600/morning.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663512274842854146" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wxg3ZdskY8U/TpjWaEsSowI/AAAAAAAAAew/R_nnzNctdmY/s400/morning.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Jan/Feb 2011 <br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-6404585849408070050?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-61276618674940102562011-10-08T19:46:00.002-04:002011-10-08T19:49:53.212-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jcMjq1oJTvA/TpDhVBSE9mI/AAAAAAAAAeo/kIFlJNMXing/s1600/the_air_echoing.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661272482842474082" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jcMjq1oJTvA/TpDhVBSE9mI/AAAAAAAAAeo/kIFlJNMXing/s400/the_air_echoing.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison</i><br /><i>Photo: Balsam, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, September 2011 <br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-6127661867494010256?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-60417349925076234652011-09-23T20:51:00.003-04:002011-10-21T20:30:19.879-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EcUhmvVLxNs/Tn0pzIk5yvI/AAAAAAAAAeg/RZu9S8ywsj8/s1600/summer_departs.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655722665499544306" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EcUhmvVLxNs/Tn0pzIk5yvI/AAAAAAAAAeg/RZu9S8ywsj8/s400/summer_departs.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Cookeville, Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Sep/Oct 2010 <br /><br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-6041734992507623465?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-35503431686970938232011-09-16T20:20:00.004-04:002011-09-16T20:24:05.323-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RPBmIf2idDM/TnPoB1uF--I/AAAAAAAAAeY/QoWgKJKNWRs/s1600/nature_is_singing.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653117075578026978" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RPBmIf2idDM/TnPoB1uF--I/AAAAAAAAAeY/QoWgKJKNWRs/s400/nature_is_singing.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Fort Fisher, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, August 2011 <br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-3550343168697093823?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-88583498308731479262011-09-09T20:54:00.000-04:002011-09-09T20:54:47.912-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AaMRjPdJj7w/TmqvXe0vb4I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/7-4pUTG9j3I/s1600/daydreams_wandering.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AaMRjPdJj7w/TmqvXe0vb4I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/7-4pUTG9j3I/s400/daydreams_wandering.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison</i><br /><i>Photo: Bald Head Island, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://simplyhaiku.webs.com//">Simply Haiku</a>, Summer 2011 <br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-8858349830873147926?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-2073329426837853422011-09-02T20:12:00.000-04:002011-09-02T20:12:16.299-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GQVbNf4TRWI/TmFuzk6bu8I/AAAAAAAAAeI/Fsrp8VG1LfY/s1600/natures_stained_glass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GQVbNf4TRWI/TmFuzk6bu8I/AAAAAAAAAeI/Fsrp8VG1LfY/s320/natures_stained_glass.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison</i><br /><i>Photo: Callaway Gardens - Pine Mountain, Georgia</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://simplyhaiku.webs.com//">Simply Haiku</a>, Summer 2011 <br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-207332942683785342?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-41421931618002423662011-08-19T20:48:00.001-04:002011-08-19T20:50:26.462-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i5U8VZkoMEE/Tk8EpaYECQI/AAAAAAAAAeE/tGEwrLuf0mE/s1600/old_song_playing.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642733967619918082" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i5U8VZkoMEE/Tk8EpaYECQI/AAAAAAAAAeE/tGEwrLuf0mE/s400/old_song_playing.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://simplyhaiku.webs.com//">Simply Haiku</a>, Summer 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4142193161800242366?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-90985767331315384722011-08-12T20:18:00.003-04:002011-08-12T20:21:11.452-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3B2otRui0f8/TkXDOmakjmI/AAAAAAAAAd8/a01TAbVukaU/s1600/through_the_window.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640128763948994146" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3B2otRui0f8/TkXDOmakjmI/AAAAAAAAAd8/a01TAbVukaU/s400/through_the_window.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://simplyhaiku.webs.com//">Simply Haiku</a>, Summer 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-9098576733131538472?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-56500084770303213082011-08-05T20:28:00.002-04:002011-08-05T20:30:34.491-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8WBd9jsKHXY/TjyK5mhckFI/AAAAAAAAAd0/WCGp1qvbIw4/s1600/desire_%2Bfor_flight.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637533555759026258" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8WBd9jsKHXY/TjyK5mhckFI/AAAAAAAAAd0/WCGp1qvbIw4/s400/desire_%2Bfor_flight.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, July 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5650008477030321308?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-35515244155760825492011-07-29T20:42:00.003-04:002011-07-29T20:46:10.703-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7hg4anLJGpY/TjNTu52h58I/AAAAAAAAAds/2JEXS7qK3Hw/s1600/always.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634939624039245762" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7hg4anLJGpY/TjNTu52h58I/AAAAAAAAAds/2JEXS7qK3Hw/s400/always.jpg" /></a><br /><br />In memory:<br />Raymond Stephens<br />Joyce Padgett<br /><br /><br /><div><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Brookgreen Gardens - Murrells Inlet, SC</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Nov/Dec 2010 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-3551524415576082549?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-41033343973335741762011-07-22T22:00:00.003-04:002011-07-22T22:02:34.616-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0mr6VOio3g8/TiorYZHJ_kI/AAAAAAAAAdk/rBpg2YYFUAc/s1600/thank_you_lord.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632361982037982786" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0mr6VOio3g8/TiorYZHJ_kI/AAAAAAAAAdk/rBpg2YYFUAc/s400/thank_you_lord.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Blue Ridge Mountains, Western North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Nov/Dec 2010 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4103334397333574176?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-39421691853396749302011-07-15T22:11:00.003-04:002011-07-15T22:13:28.328-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6sFuqk70UnQ/TiDzfFo0odI/AAAAAAAAAdc/mZI4D8cTsVc/s1600/acceptance.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629767249628013010" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6sFuqk70UnQ/TiDzfFo0odI/AAAAAAAAAdc/mZI4D8cTsVc/s400/acceptance.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Pine Mountain, Georgia</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Mar/Apr 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-3942169185339674930?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-37771957875811636732011-07-08T21:15:00.002-04:002011-07-08T21:34:37.446-04:00<div align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FGfAZ1EqUpc/TheuL4gI-oI/AAAAAAAAAdU/eUpy_qr2Fek/s1600/down_the_mountain.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 286px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627157778591709826" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FGfAZ1EqUpc/TheuL4gI-oI/AAAAAAAAAdU/eUpy_qr2Fek/s400/down_the_mountain.jpg" /></a><br /></div><p align="center">the road<br />makes its decline<br />twisting, turning, falling<br />down the mountain to the valley<br />below<br />when suddenly the road straightens<br />and there is gratitude<br />because you have<br />arrived</p><div><br /><i>— Dan Hardison<br /><br /><br />Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Grandfather Mountain, Western North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Butterfly Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Mar/Apr 2011<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-3777195787581163673?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-13444519852779482792011-06-24T21:04:00.003-04:002011-06-24T21:07:48.253-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PQA67y0vzU0/TgU0UZhUbhI/AAAAAAAAAdM/fynLr-jT8b0/s1600/promises_fulfilled.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621957234894597650" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PQA67y0vzU0/TgU0UZhUbhI/AAAAAAAAAdM/fynLr-jT8b0/s400/promises_fulfilled.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Dillsboro, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, July 2010<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1344451985277948279?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-16387973265317531422011-06-17T21:03:00.001-04:002011-06-17T21:03:56.263-04:00<div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jdJ_LZ79_j8/Tfv2GfddpoI/AAAAAAAAAdE/-RoA-zlRkOE/s1600/aha.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619355551459550850" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jdJ_LZ79_j8/Tfv2GfddpoI/AAAAAAAAAdE/-RoA-zlRkOE/s400/aha.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Mar/Apr 2011<br /><br /></div></div><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1638797326531753142?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-40487069517284617582011-06-10T20:32:00.003-04:002011-06-10T20:37:09.016-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--jgTCHdyykE/TfK3798Z_0I/AAAAAAAAAc8/D86XGRt-wNs/s1600/dewy_rose.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616753926152519490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--jgTCHdyykE/TfK3798Z_0I/AAAAAAAAAc8/D86XGRt-wNs/s400/dewy_rose.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, May 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4048706951728461758?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-13070562467444539152011-06-03T20:07:00.002-04:002011-06-03T20:14:26.203-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lc026cv9emw/Tel3Z2koVII/AAAAAAAAAc0/uIAoUAYNzdo/s1600/climbing.jpg"><img style="width: 286px; height: 400px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614149696523621506" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lc026cv9emw/Tel3Z2koVII/AAAAAAAAAc0/uIAoUAYNzdo/s400/climbing.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>As a child, I loved to climb trees. Every tree presented a challenge and the higher you could climb the greater the feeling of accomplishment. There was a thrill to look down through the branches to the ground, or out across the surrounding area.<br /><br />A favorite tree was one of the tallest in the woods where we played. It was not a particular challenge to climb, but the top opened up like a giant bird’s nest. Once there, you could stretch out and watch the clouds go by. That is until the day there was a loud crack . . . the tree shook . . . and then came crashing to the ground – with three of us in it.<br /><br />It is interesting how we tend to lose our sense of adventure, as we get older. Perhaps we trade our carefree sense of wonder for the knowledge that comes with age.<br /><br />an innocent face<br />filled with curiosity –<br />the squirrel watching me<br /><br /><i>— Dan Hardison</i><br /><br /><br /><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Haibun, <a href="http://contemporaryhaibunonline.com/">Contemporary Haibun Online</a> - April 2011, vol 7 no 1<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1307056246744453915?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-87818142603553242462011-05-27T21:26:00.002-04:002011-05-27T21:42:51.719-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--VBI5TwcS0Q/TeBSwJHdCKI/AAAAAAAAAco/A1IynR6zc8o/s1600/patience.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611576122738018466" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--VBI5TwcS0Q/TeBSwJHdCKI/AAAAAAAAAco/A1IynR6zc8o/s400/patience.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Mar/Apr 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-8781814260355324246?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-37958932964876550092011-05-20T20:39:00.003-04:002011-05-20T20:42:26.856-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rPJdkX0zyjk/TdcJ8j_iG7I/AAAAAAAAAcg/CLVPcJ1hHVQ/s1600/radiant_stillness.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608962796971760562" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rPJdkX0zyjk/TdcJ8j_iG7I/AAAAAAAAAcg/CLVPcJ1hHVQ/s400/radiant_stillness.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Balsam, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, April 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-3795893296487655009?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-41830124248538112482011-05-13T21:22:00.002-04:002011-05-14T20:56:26.151-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MInoI2jDWqA/Tc3Zk_Ti1jI/AAAAAAAAAcY/0S9XAT5TUsY/s1600/raining.jpg"><img style="width: 400px; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606376340638062130" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MInoI2jDWqA/Tc3Zk_Ti1jI/AAAAAAAAAcY/0S9XAT5TUsY/s400/raining.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Red Clay State Park, East Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Nov/Dec 2010<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4183012424853811248?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-71158756763099458712011-05-06T20:55:00.003-04:002011-05-06T21:00:33.143-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WKsyCF3hTEI/TcSYplf2VBI/AAAAAAAAAcI/uk7cWcB4lus/s1600/miss_lizzie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603771676563493906" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WKsyCF3hTEI/TcSYplf2VBI/AAAAAAAAAcI/uk7cWcB4lus/s400/miss_lizzie.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>She lived near the middle of town in a broken-down house, isolated and alone. A six-foot fence of chicken wire kept strangers at bay. Covered windows kept out light and prying eyes. The yard was overgrown and no one knew if the tombstones in the front yard were memorials or actual gravesite markers.<br /><br />People knew her only as Miss Lizzie and could not remember how long she had lived there or anything else about her. It was rare to get a glimpse of her, so she was regarded as eccentric and mysterious.<br /><br />They now know she was 98 years old after she was found dead lying just inside the front door. So is this what happens when you outlive family and friends, and no one notices when you die?<br /><br />windows growing dark<br />with shadows stretching longer –<br />disappearing light<br /><br /><i>— Dan Hardison</i><br /><br /><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Maury County, Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br />Haibun, <a href="http://contemporaryhaibunonline.com/">Contemporary Haibun Online</a> - April 2011, vol 7 no 1<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-7115875676309945871?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-1717486154861539632011-04-22T20:16:00.001-04:002011-04-22T20:18:43.559-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wNzaVoL292s/TbIalDHVlOI/AAAAAAAAAcA/-C5KUtzcT50/s1600/waves_break.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598566510568510690" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wNzaVoL292s/TbIalDHVlOI/AAAAAAAAAcA/-C5KUtzcT50/s400/waves_break.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Sep/Oct 2010<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-171748615486153963?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-49427977064465937062011-04-15T21:57:00.003-04:002011-04-15T22:07:16.282-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-009KdybU6Gw/Taj4G91xVgI/AAAAAAAAAb4/yTu9uFye598/s1600/sky_of_sorrow.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595995335570839042" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-009KdybU6Gw/Taj4G91xVgI/AAAAAAAAAb4/yTu9uFye598/s400/sky_of_sorrow.jpg" border="0" /></a> <br /><br /><br /><div><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Blue Ridge Mountains, Western North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Nov/Dec 2010<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4942797706446593706?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-82607219303274196092011-04-08T20:14:00.003-04:002011-04-08T20:16:33.543-04:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uk4C9HqT9vo/TZ-k9qcFXvI/AAAAAAAAAbo/kmLgTyZJmHU/s1600/eastertide.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593370641488502514" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uk4C9HqT9vo/TZ-k9qcFXvI/AAAAAAAAAbo/kmLgTyZJmHU/s400/eastertide.jpg" border="0" /></a> <br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, March 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-8260721930327419609?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-54908104915884846662011-04-01T20:15:00.002-04:002011-04-01T20:17:53.035-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EhxSQ3rUAIc/TZZq8RAiw0I/AAAAAAAAAbg/FbHWSe-aKPQ/s1600/gentle_knowing.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590773571017425730" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EhxSQ3rUAIc/TZZq8RAiw0I/AAAAAAAAAbg/FbHWSe-aKPQ/s400/gentle_knowing.jpg" border="0" /></a> <br /><br /><br /><div><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Nov/Dec 2011<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5490810491588484666?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-85449201852110335612011-03-26T21:19:00.002-04:002011-03-26T21:22:58.929-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tIFdC64Kvuc/TY6RFljTYJI/AAAAAAAAAbY/2MVK_EBlVAk/s1600/winter.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588563712778920082" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tIFdC64Kvuc/TY6RFljTYJI/AAAAAAAAAbY/2MVK_EBlVAk/s400/winter.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Jan/Feb 2011<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-8544920185211033561?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-10507421342360342972011-03-18T21:04:00.002-04:002011-03-18T21:07:34.676-04:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cdnAlowWY_Y/TYQBtQuJjPI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/Ht8AW8w6x0g/s1600/memories_fading.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585591314940529906" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cdnAlowWY_Y/TYQBtQuJjPI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/Ht8AW8w6x0g/s400/memories_fading.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Blue Ridge Mountains, Western North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, September 2010 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1050742134236034297?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-9166397788678074942011-03-11T21:10:00.004-05:002011-03-11T21:12:34.484-05:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N6eUPjbhYnM/TXrWJTGZP0I/AAAAAAAAAbA/tKPk5yDhRNI/s1600/the_afghan.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583010143313411906" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N6eUPjbhYnM/TXrWJTGZP0I/AAAAAAAAAbA/tKPk5yDhRNI/s400/the_afghan.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Cinquain, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Nov/Dec 2010<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-916639778867807494?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-91622032813423238172011-03-04T19:47:00.001-05:002011-03-04T19:49:21.415-05:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SKJ2yiAUOI8/TXGIY_B8lvI/AAAAAAAAAa4/hwAL6aHJVWY/s1600/dreams_of_summer.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580391376106591986" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SKJ2yiAUOI8/TXGIY_B8lvI/AAAAAAAAAa4/hwAL6aHJVWY/s400/dreams_of_summer.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, February 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-9162203281342323817?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-84624539438966376892011-02-25T20:41:00.003-05:002011-02-25T20:45:47.149-05:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F9lhWfrCdnM/TWhbEoaIF6I/AAAAAAAAAaw/Pkg54cE6xSU/s1600/the_glistening_air.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577808273622964130" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F9lhWfrCdnM/TWhbEoaIF6I/AAAAAAAAAaw/Pkg54cE6xSU/s400/the_glistening_air.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://simplyhaiku.webs.com//">Simply Haiku</a>, Winter 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-8462453943896637689?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-23089619601285303772011-02-18T20:13:00.004-05:002011-04-08T20:21:08.592-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VOx8gJ8S-3Q/TZ-l4OCZ8zI/AAAAAAAAAbw/3lPC4BDv5ZU/s1600/rendered_in_white.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593371647476888370" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VOx8gJ8S-3Q/TZ-l4OCZ8zI/AAAAAAAAAbw/3lPC4BDv5ZU/s400/rendered_in_white.jpg" border="0" /></a> <br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison <br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i> <br /><br /><br /><a href="http://simplyhaiku.webs.com//">Simply Haiku</a>, Winter 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-2308961960128530377?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-40273479162193149082011-02-11T20:30:00.001-05:002011-02-11T20:32:25.731-05:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YkofkCEtb_4/TVXi-bnXv8I/AAAAAAAAAaY/HKWNe6xY-RQ/s1600/friendships_never_die.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572609676133515202" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YkofkCEtb_4/TVXi-bnXv8I/AAAAAAAAAaY/HKWNe6xY-RQ/s400/friendships_never_die.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://simplyhaiku.webs.com//">Simply Haiku</a>, Winter 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4027347916219314908?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-67876887423392681932011-02-04T20:19:00.002-05:002011-02-04T20:22:27.937-05:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TUymJjv7UeI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/lKmezBQ3O9w/s1600/stirrings_of_winter.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TUymJjv7UeI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/lKmezBQ3O9w/s400/stirrings_of_winter.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570009522295755234" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, January 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-6787688742339268193?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-45849508272758959112011-01-28T21:37:00.002-05:002011-01-28T21:39:22.115-05:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TUN9qo3W43I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/Tled6LuC6ww/s1600/magic_in_the_air.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567431735837647730" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TUN9qo3W43I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/Tled6LuC6ww/s400/magic_in_the_air.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://simplyhaiku.webs.com//">Simply Haiku</a>, Winter 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4584950827275895911?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-57412711185858483662011-01-21T21:44:00.002-05:002011-01-21T21:46:00.605-05:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TTpErSi05dI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/soWH_LtO1QU/s1600/from_dream_to_dream.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564835800072644050" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TTpErSi05dI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/soWH_LtO1QU/s400/from_dream_to_dream.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://simplyhaiku.webs.com//">Simply Haiku</a>, Winter 2011 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5741271118585848366?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-27950300074860909742011-01-14T22:12:00.002-05:002011-01-14T22:14:41.355-05:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TTEQ21ZhvyI/AAAAAAAAAZs/4W1X3EKgeNU/s1600/celtic_journey.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562245549012401954" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TTEQ21ZhvyI/AAAAAAAAAZs/4W1X3EKgeNU/s400/celtic_journey.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />mixed media</i><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-2795030007486090974?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-55956086897020232902011-01-07T21:55:00.001-05:002011-01-07T21:57:14.857-05:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TSfSVfSnxeI/AAAAAAAAAZk/p-CmYl5mEJ8/s1600/ghost_scents_in_winter.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TSfSVfSnxeI/AAAAAAAAAZk/p-CmYl5mEJ8/s400/ghost_scents_in_winter.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559643531630855650" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Rock Island State Park, Eastern Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, March 2010 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5595608689702023290?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-70518533001285307082010-12-24T20:28:00.000-05:002010-12-24T20:29:43.398-05:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TRFhFWHjiWI/AAAAAAAAAZY/B2QOB6hlYgk/s1600/the_gift.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553326559989041506" style="WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TRFhFWHjiWI/AAAAAAAAAZY/B2QOB6hlYgk/s400/the_gift.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>The day had arrived, <br />the family had gathered,<br />gifts were brought for the child. <br /><br />With great gusto and delight<br />the child tore at the paper<br />revealing the gifts one by one.<br /><br />Toys that talked, toys that moved,<br />toys with lights and sound,<br />wonderful things had been bought.<br /><br />And so the time came<br />when the last gift was unwrapped<br />and the new toys sat all about.<br /><br />The child chose the one <br />that thrilled him the most<br />and was his greatest delight.<br /><br />From all that was given<br />the child chose to play<br />with an empty box.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><i>Image by Dan Hardison<br />mixed media</i></p><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-7051853300128530708?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-74352194129440687982010-12-17T19:14:00.003-05:002010-12-17T19:22:25.892-05:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TQv88COAZ3I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/rzk7kHcOJQA/s1600/deep_peace.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551809073982236530" style="WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TQv88COAZ3I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/rzk7kHcOJQA/s400/deep_peace.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Deep peace of Christ<br />the light of the world to you<br /><br /><br /><p><i>Words from a Gaelic blessing<br />Image, mixed media artwork by Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-7435219412944068798?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-3478751115019954892010-12-10T21:14:00.001-05:002010-12-10T21:16:20.144-05:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TQLevZLHcpI/AAAAAAAAAZI/nu1BkSu7B38/s1600/a_light.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549242596666602130" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TQLevZLHcpI/AAAAAAAAAZI/nu1BkSu7B38/s400/a_light.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Tanka and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Blue Ridge Mountains, Western North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Tanka, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Sep/Oct 2010<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-347875111501995489?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-15700669376827506732010-12-03T20:31:00.001-05:002010-12-03T20:35:10.464-05:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TPmamsEFW0I/AAAAAAAAAY4/bUfIOzi13Ws/s1600/prodigal_life.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546634405537471298" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TPmamsEFW0I/AAAAAAAAAY4/bUfIOzi13Ws/s400/prodigal_life.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Maury County, Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, November 2010 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1570066937682750673?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-17794408316342477612010-11-26T20:24:00.003-05:002011-02-18T20:17:13.874-05:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JFdB6IBZbCQ/TV8aAPn90tI/AAAAAAAAAao/dx8BB4c7Zio/s1600/memories.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JFdB6IBZbCQ/TV8aAPn90tI/AAAAAAAAAao/dx8BB4c7Zio/s400/memories.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575203455204446930" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Tanka and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Cookeville, Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br />Tanka, <a href="http://poetrywriting.org/">Sketchbook</a> - Sep/Oct 2010<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1779440831634247761?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-12194945746752488962010-11-19T21:02:00.003-05:002010-11-19T21:06:28.365-05:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TOcsYtpULcI/AAAAAAAAAYo/iHmCoykLLAA/s1600/the_frost_covered_ground.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541446669584051650" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TOcsYtpULcI/AAAAAAAAAYo/iHmCoykLLAA/s400/the_frost_covered_ground.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Bledsoe County, East Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, October 2010 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1219494574675248896?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-22480889209269452992010-11-12T20:15:00.004-05:002012-01-20T21:27:22.667-05:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TN3m467aD4I/AAAAAAAAAYg/sG8mYhWHpbg/s1600/look_of_autumn.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538836982301069186" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TN3m467aD4I/AAAAAAAAAYg/sG8mYhWHpbg/s400/look_of_autumn.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>While passing the garden center today, I noticed their display of mums and I remembered how at the first hint of autumn you always filled your porch with mums. Your porch was always a place with just the right touch to celebrate the seasons, but I think autumn must have been your favorite.<br /><br />Autumn signals the waning of another year and there is a kind of serene melancholy in the air as the old is passing and we await the season of sleep. It has been called the “natural processes completing themselves, then beginning their perfect round motion once more.” I think I will buy some mums today.<br /><br />when color speaks<br />and all nature rejoices<br />the heart listens<br /><br /><i>— Dan Hardison</i><br /><br /><br /><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Cookeville, Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-2248088920926945299?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-77259522878918768482010-10-22T20:16:00.003-04:002010-10-22T20:18:53.723-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TMIplrBVg3I/AAAAAAAAAYY/xSbsT1XVgj0/s1600/from_a_distance.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531029019544617842" style="WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TMIplrBVg3I/AAAAAAAAAYY/xSbsT1XVgj0/s400/from_a_distance.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Night is falling <br />and the sky is flowing <br />through its myriad of colors.<br /><br />Watching as trees <br />that just a short time ago <br />were distinct and clear <br /><br />draw further <br />into the distance <br />and into our memories.<br /><br />And when all about is dark, <br />the trees and the day <br />will slip away into the night.<br /><br />And they will be . . . <br />as a dream.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Hickory Nut Gorge, Western North Carolina</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-SlippingAway.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-7725952287891876848?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-84884808313960575932010-10-15T20:32:00.002-04:002010-10-15T20:42:15.896-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TLjy8nZ-vRI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/nJOzVWXon7c/s1600/dreams_remembered.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528435665781308690" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TLjy8nZ-vRI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/nJOzVWXon7c/s400/dreams_remembered.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Balsam, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.themetpress.com/modernhaiga/journal/masthead.html/">Modern Haiga</a>, December 2009<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-8488480831396057593?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-90064438389351262032010-10-08T20:44:00.004-04:002010-10-08T20:51:40.840-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TK-7YDXc2uI/AAAAAAAAAYI/ybd-5SEtWQk/s1600/autumn_light.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525841289701808866" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TK-7YDXc2uI/AAAAAAAAAYI/ybd-5SEtWQk/s400/autumn_light.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>The best time is late afternoon<br />when the sun strobes through<br />the columns of trees as you are hiking up,<br />and when you find an agreeable rock<br />to sit on, you will be able to see<br />the light pouring down into the woods<br />and breaking into the shapes and tones<br />of things and you will hear nothing<br />but a sprig of birdsong or the leafy<br />falling of a cone or nut through the trees,<br />and if this is your day you might even<br />spot a hare or feel the wing-beats of geese<br />driving overhead toward some destination.<br /><br />But it is hard to speak of these things<br />how the voices of light enter the body<br />and begin to recite their stories<br />how the earth holds us painfully against<br />its breast made of humus and brambles<br />how we who will soon be gone regard<br />the entities that continue to return<br />greener than ever, spring water flowing<br />through a meadow and the shadows of clouds<br />passing over the hills and the ground<br />where we stand in the tremble of thought<br />taking the vast outside into ourselves.<br /><br /><p><i>— Billy Collins<br />From his book "The Art of Drowning"</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Bald River Falls, Eastern Tennessee</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Collins-Directions.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-9006443838935126203?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-5287349128537674752010-10-01T20:38:00.003-04:002010-10-01T20:42:37.229-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TKZ_MjYgDyI/AAAAAAAAAYA/Xr1RtnKrOT4/s1600/gray_morning.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523241846649655074" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TKZ_MjYgDyI/AAAAAAAAAYA/Xr1RtnKrOT4/s400/gray_morning.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>The sound of rain falling outside our window greeted me when I woke this morning. It was just a light shower, but discouraging nonetheless. We had come to the mountains to enjoy the fall colors and cool days of October. To take in the views, do a little hiking, to get away . . .<br /><br />Our stay was at an inn that dates to 1906 and still relishing in its turn-of-the-century charm. There is no television, no phones, and no air conditioning. The wooden floors creak, the pipes rattle, and the silence at night takes getting used to.<br /><br />So what now? Our plans for the day were all wet. Not much to do except grab a jacket, a cup of hot tea, a good book, settle into a rocker on the porch, and listen to the rhythm of the rain. Actually, not such a bad morning after all.<br /><br />day-long rain<br />stretching into night –<br />restless dog<br /><br /><i>— Dan Hardison</i><br /><br /><br /><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Balsam, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-RhythmOfTheRain.pdf">Read or print PDF</a> <p></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-528734912853767475?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-44296519711080356402010-09-24T21:37:00.005-04:002010-09-24T21:55:21.199-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TJ1SjaRS3GI/AAAAAAAAAXw/U1zc4ii_xpo/s1600/chimney_rock_park_1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520659486526856290" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 259px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TJ1SjaRS3GI/AAAAAAAAAXw/U1zc4ii_xpo/s400/chimney_rock_park_1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Chimney Rock Mountain and Entrance to Motor Road, Chimney Rock, NC<br />(Unused - divided back, c1920s)<br /><br /><br />Tucked away in Hickory Nut Gorge of Western North Carolina, Chimney Rock has stood the test of time. And if you have seen the 1992 movie "The Last of the Mohicans," then you know the beauty of Chimney Rock Park.<br /><br />Located along Highway 74A as it follows the Rocky Broad River, Chimney Rock Park has welcomed visitors since 1902. Its name comes from a 315-foot granite rock formation that stands like a chimney on the side of a cliff. The entrance is across a bridge spanning the river and follows a twisting road up to the base of the chimney. During the early days of the park, a series of paths, stairs, and ladders took visitors from the parking lot at the base up to the top of Chimney Rock. Since 1949, an elevator built inside the cliff can carry visitors 26 stories to the top.<br /><br />Besides a visit to Chimney Rock, several other unusual rock formations can be found along five different hiking trails. Also found in the park is Hickory Nut Falls. At 404 feet, it is one of the highest waterfalls east of the Mississippi River. The Pavilion dining room and the Cliff Dwellers Inn that were once part of the park are gone today, but you can still enjoy the Sky Lounge at the top of the elevator and the Nature Center.<br /><br />For over 100 years, Chimney Rock Park was privately owned and operated. In 2007, North Carolina purchased it to become the centerpiece of a new state park. Still in development, <a href="http://www.chimneyrockpark.com">Chimney Rock State Park</a> includes over 4,000 acres in Hickory Nut Gorge and is part of the Blue Ridge National Heritage Area. Thanks to the state of North Carolina, the unique features and natural beauty of the area will be preserved for generations to come.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://danhardison.blogspot.com/2010/08/message-from-past-visiting-chimney-rock.html">Message from the Past: Visiting Chimney Rock</a></p><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TJ1TBYQaq5I/AAAAAAAAAX4/cNMhWAwvI1s/s1600/chimney_rock_park_2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520660001382378386" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 257px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TJ1TBYQaq5I/AAAAAAAAAX4/cNMhWAwvI1s/s400/chimney_rock_park_2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Lake Lure from Precipice above Chimney Rock, Western North Carolina<br />(Unused - divided back, c1930)<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4429651971108035640?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-27922288286043303072010-09-17T20:18:00.002-04:002010-09-17T20:22:44.379-04:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TJQF3Qkx0sI/AAAAAAAAAXo/qy8CVtmVIfU/s1600/all_along_the_mountain.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518041890335871682" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TJQF3Qkx0sI/AAAAAAAAAXo/qy8CVtmVIfU/s400/all_along_the_mountain.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>All along the Appalachians <br />the mighty Chestnut stood <br />towering above all others, <br />as wide as a man is tall.<br /><br />With a canopy of blossoms <br />like snow in springtime <br />and a nut that was prized <br />by wildlife and man.<br /><br />From fences to tannin,<br />from furniture to cabins,<br />this forest wonder <br />was valued by all.<br /><br />But like an unseen fire <br />a disease from afar <br />would soon imperil <br />this American treasure.<br /><br />From the North to the South<br />the destruction was spread<br />until a ghostly forest <br />was all that was left.<br /><br />Many years have passed<br />since the Chestnut reigned <br />with only bleak reminders<br />of this once great tree.<br /><br />But there are those <br />who remain hopeful <br />for the day when the Chestnut <br />returns to these mountains.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Blue Ridge Mountains, Western North Carolina</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-ForestWonder.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-2792228828604330307?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-9805507784969560102010-09-10T20:55:00.003-04:002010-09-10T20:59:11.382-04:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TIrTp0kJ0jI/AAAAAAAAAXg/4ubqjB2fIcs/s1600/on_the_edge_of_light.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515453409106973234" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TIrTp0kJ0jI/AAAAAAAAAXg/4ubqjB2fIcs/s400/on_the_edge_of_light.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-980550778496956010?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-77347119529468929522010-09-03T21:02:00.004-04:002010-09-03T21:05:52.551-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TIGasbWPijI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/z96dTknDZ4U/s1600/fleeting_moment.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512857506924169778" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TIGasbWPijI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/z96dTknDZ4U/s400/fleeting_moment.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>The heat of the day still lingers in the field.<br />Leaves disclose their secrets <br />in answer to whispers from the bay.<br /><br />My daughter bends like a sapling in waning sun, <br />selecting dandelions: one for her, <br />and another one<br /><br />for her brother who crouches on the uneven sidewalk, <br />Bear tight under an arm, thumb in mouth <br />to keep the world in balance.<br /><br />Amber light filters through spreading elms <br />lining the avenue of this small town.<br />I breathe in the evening, close my eyes <br /><br />long enough to etch the moment for safe-keeping, <br />before it fades, an old photograph, fleeting, <br />a child's breath freeing seeds.<br /><br /><p><i>— Ronda Broatch<br />From her chapbook "Some Other Eden"</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Cookeville, Tennessee</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Broatch-September.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-7734711952946892952?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-25238597763451513112010-08-27T22:01:00.002-04:002010-08-27T22:04:42.964-04:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/THhuPkywvSI/AAAAAAAAAXI/kCT7KXW6fFs/s1600/chimney_rock.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510275357941480738" style="WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/THhuPkywvSI/AAAAAAAAAXI/kCT7KXW6fFs/s400/chimney_rock.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Parking Place at Base of Chimney Rock, Western North Carolina<br />(Used - divided back, 1921)<br /><br /><br />Driving along the steep and winding highway 74A as it passes through Hickory Nut Gorge in Western North Carolina, Chimney Rock stands as a sentinel over the Rocky Broad River. For over 100 years, the distinctive 315-foot tall granite rock formation has been the centerpiece of Chimney Rock Park and a destination for visitors.<br /><br />Access to the park is across a bridge and along a road that leads to the base of the chimney. In earlier days, visitors had to climb a series of trails, stairs, and ladders to reach the top of the chimney. In 1948, a 26-story elevator was constructed inside the cliff to take visitors to the top. A footbridge is still needed to get from the elevator out onto the top of the chimney.<br /><br />The cover of the postcard shows Chimney Rock with the parking lot and the Cliff Dwellers Inn at the base of the chimney. The inn would be torn down to make way for the entrance to the elevator.<br /><br />The back of the postcard has a postmark of 1921. The message reads:<br /><br />"Our boarding house accommodates thirty six people. July and Aug. are the hottest months. This is top of Chimney Rock. It is so high that people have been carried down on stretchers as they could not stand the altitude."<br /><br />It is no wonder that an elevator was installed, and good that it is still in service today for visitors to Chimney Rock.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-2523859776345151311?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-63275813808256907572010-08-20T22:07:00.005-04:002010-08-20T22:13:03.575-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TG81F-S7_2I/AAAAAAAAAXA/QszQu0WaaG8/s1600/morning_in_the_blue_ridge.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507679246035451746" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TG81F-S7_2I/AAAAAAAAAXA/QszQu0WaaG8/s400/morning_in_the_blue_ridge.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Morning comes <br />to these mountains before me.<br />Not in a rush<br />but gently and silently.<br /><br />It is a cloud-covered morning <br />bathed in a myriad of blues.<br />It is hard to tell <br />where the mountains end<br />and the heavens begin.<br /><br />There is little sound <br />save for a breeze <br />rustling through the trees,<br />and a mourning dove <br />somewhere in the distance.<br /><br />As time slowly moves on<br />there seems to be little change –<br />as though time itself<br />was standing still.<br /><br />But at some point<br />this peaceful calm will be broken.<br />The sun will come alive<br />and the day will awaken.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Blue Ridge Mountains, Western North Carolina</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-MorningInTheBlueRidge.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-6327581380825690757?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-79462527359107684962010-08-13T20:28:00.003-04:002010-08-13T20:30:08.592-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TGXjTtWBGFI/AAAAAAAAAW4/YJtal4ZiX5s/s1600/swirls_of_mystery.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505056047259261010" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TGXjTtWBGFI/AAAAAAAAAW4/YJtal4ZiX5s/s400/swirls_of_mystery.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Western North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, April 2010 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-7946252735910768496?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-80858273620096392382010-08-06T21:45:00.007-04:002010-09-17T20:34:00.937-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TFy66uoKA8I/AAAAAAAAAWw/yRHPnd0h0Go/s1600/at_the_bottom.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502478362851541954" style="WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TFy66uoKA8I/AAAAAAAAAWw/yRHPnd0h0Go/s400/at_the_bottom.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Give me a landscape made of obstacles,<br />of steep hills and jutting glacial rock,<br />where the low-running streams are quick to flood<br />the grassy fields and bottomlands.<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 180px">A place<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">no engineers can master–where the roads<br />must twist like tendrils up the mountainside<br />on narrow cliffs where boulders block the way.<br />Where tall black trunks of lightning-scalded pine<br />push through the tangled woods to make a roost<br />for hawks and swarming crows.<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 180px">And sharp inclines<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">where twisting through the thorn-thick underbrush,<br />scratched and exhausted, one turns suddenly<br />to find an unexpected waterfall,<br />not half a mile from the nearest road,<br />a spot so hard to reach that no one comes–<br />a hiding place, a shrine for dragonflies<br />and nesting jays, a sign that there is still<br />one piece of property that won't be owned.<br /><br /><p><i>— <a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/poets.htm#Gioia">Dana Gioia</a><br />From his book “The Gods of Winter.”</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Western North Carolina</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Gioia-RoughCountry.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-8085827362009639238?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-62161517371156378362010-07-30T21:05:00.003-04:002010-07-30T21:16:00.736-04:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TFN3Kg4ZWgI/AAAAAAAAAWo/o8NxEqhmsZg/s1600/old_baldy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499870592458381826" style="WIDTH: 259px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TFN3Kg4ZWgI/AAAAAAAAAWo/o8NxEqhmsZg/s400/old_baldy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Lighthouse on Smith Island, (Bald Head Island) North Carolina<br />(Unused - divided back, 1940s-1950s)<br /><br /><br />The coast of North Carolina is known as a ship graveyard of the Atlantic. Lighthouses along this coast have long served to give warning of the treacherous waters found there. On the southern end at a prominent headland jutting into the Atlantic Ocean is Bald Head Island (also known as Smith Island) and Old Baldy Lighthouse. <br /><br />Bald Head Island (also known as Smith Island) is located off the coast of Southport, North Carolina where the Cape Fear River, the Intracoastal Waterway, and the Atlantic Ocean come together. Old Baldy is North Carolina's oldest standing lighthouse. Built in 1817, it was the second lighthouse to be built on the island. The bricks from the first lighthouse (completed in 1795) were reused for Old Baldy's construction.<br /><br />The 110-foot brick octagonal lighthouse has a base diameter of 36 feet with walls 5 feet thick, decreasing to 2 feet at the top. A set of spiraling stairs takes you from the base to a platform under the distinctive offset lantern room. Entrance into the lantern room is by a narrow ladder through a small opening in the floor.<br /><br />Bald Head Island was the site of Fort Holmes during the Civil War. The fort was used to protect the Cape Fear River and the port of Wilmington. Old Baldy remained active until 1935. It was used as a radio beacon from World War II until 1958. Old Baldy is open to the public today and a replica of the 1850's lighthouse keeper's cottage stands next to it and houses a history museum.<br /><br />Lighthouses have long served as navigation aids to ships piloting coastal and inland waterways. Old Baldy stands as a reminder of the role of a lighthouse and its duty serving the area known as Cape Fear.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br />Visit <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/20509217@N08/sets/72157603268589221/">Windscape Studio</a> at flickr.com for photos of Old Baldy.</p><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-6216151737115637836?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-87468950796810755942010-07-23T21:12:00.003-04:002010-07-23T21:26:32.176-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TEo-s1hS7iI/AAAAAAAAAWg/gpGVQ13zcEw/s1600/knowing.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497275235161009698" style="WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TEo-s1hS7iI/AAAAAAAAAWg/gpGVQ13zcEw/s400/knowing.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Dreams fulfilled <br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 30px">and unrealized<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Circumstances won <br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 30px">and lost<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Emotions touched <br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 30px">and shattered<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Observations beheld<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 30px">and fate endured<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Life experienced<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 30px">and knowledge gained<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Memories all<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Columbia, Tennessee</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-Knowing.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-8746895079681075594?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-49107217807634248222010-07-16T20:14:00.002-04:002010-07-16T20:16:39.607-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TED2HDOzq0I/AAAAAAAAAWY/Aoj38_kZxRk/s1600/the_water_lily.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494662146378935106" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TED2HDOzq0I/AAAAAAAAAWY/Aoj38_kZxRk/s400/the_water_lily.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, June 2010 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4910721780763424822?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-14404757432494440112010-07-09T21:14:00.002-04:002010-07-09T21:21:54.568-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TDfKYm7H5-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/37etSclobdk/s1600/prayer_of_the_lily.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492080794715809762" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TDfKYm7H5-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/37etSclobdk/s400/prayer_of_the_lily.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Her wish was that there be no funeral – yet there we were. It was a traditional service held in a chapel well attended to overflow. At the entrance were photographs of her alone and with family, arranged past to present. There was the obligatory organ softly emitting gospel tunes. Hymns were sung, bible passages read, and prayers offered. A eulogy was given – at least part eulogy part preaching. And there were flowers – lining the walls, covering tables, filling the chapel with fragrance and beauty. As we sat amid this splendor, I wondered . . . if she had received this many flowers while she was alive.<br /><br />seasonal changes,<br />the rising and setting sun –<br />colors of my life<br /><br /><i>— Dan Hardison</i><br /><br /><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-Lamentation.pdf">Read or print PDF</a> <p></p><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1440475743249444011?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-16669325692775345122010-07-02T21:47:00.002-04:002010-07-02T21:52:36.643-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TC6XHJkbq2I/AAAAAAAAAWI/VZyASm9vP7s/s1600/the_path_i_walk.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489491144894819170" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TC6XHJkbq2I/AAAAAAAAAWI/VZyASm9vP7s/s400/the_path_i_walk.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>I have walked through many lives, <br />some of them my own, <br />and I am not who I was, <br />though some principle of being <br />abides, from which I struggle not to stray. <br />When I look behind, <br />as I am compelled to look <br />before I can gather strength <br />to proceed on my journey, <br />I see the milestones dwindling <br />toward the horizon <br />and the slow fires trailing <br />from the abandoned camp-sites, <br />over which scavenger angels <br />wheel on heavy wings. <br />Oh, I have made myself a tribe <br />out of my true affections, <br />and my tribe is scattered! <br />How shall the heart be reconciled <br />to its feast of losses? <br />In a rising wind <br />the manic dust of my friends, <br />those who fell along the way, <br />bitterly stings my face. <br />yet I turn, I turn, <br />exulting somewhat, <br />with my will intact to go <br />wherever I need to go, <br />and every stone on the road <br />precious to me. <br />In my darkest night, <br />when the moon was covered <br />and I roamed through wreckage, <br />a nimbus-clouded voice <br />directed me: <br />"Live in the layers, <br />not on the litter." <br />Though I lack the art <br />to decipher it, <br />no doubt the next chapter <br />in my book of transformations <br />is already written, <br />I am not done with my changes.<br /><br /><p><i>— <a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/poets.htm#Kunitz">Stanley Kunitz</a><br />From his book "The Wild Braid: A Poet Reflects on a Century in the Garden"</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Airlie Gardens<br />Wilmington, North Carolina</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Kunitz-TheLayers.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1666932569277534512?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-10654569995669437962010-06-25T21:42:00.001-04:002010-06-25T21:43:32.945-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TCVV6C_YmAI/AAAAAAAAAV4/Fc35sJvGrMk/s1600/st_johns_church.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486886176744314882" style="WIDTH: 261px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TCVV6C_YmAI/AAAAAAAAAV4/Fc35sJvGrMk/s400/st_johns_church.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Columbia, Tennessee<br />(Unused - divided back, c1940s)<br /><br /><br />In 1864, the Confederate Army of Tennessee marched past St. John's Episcopal Church on its way to face Union troops at nearby Franklin, Tennessee. General Patrick Cleburne, while passing by the church, is said to have remarked, "This is the most beautiful and peaceful spot I ever beheld . . . It is almost worth dying to be buried in such a beautiful spot." Several days later Cleburne, General H. B. Granbury, and General O. F. Strahl died at the Battle of Franklin and were buried at St. John's.<br /><br />Located in an area known as Ashwood between the towns of Columbia and Mt. Pleasant in Middle Tennessee, St. John's Church is one of Maury County's most treasured historical sites. Built by Leonidas Polk and his three brothers: Rufus, Lucius, and George – cousins to President James K. Polk – the church is located at a point where the brother's plantations came together. The land and material for the church was donated by the brothers and built by slaves. The pulpit, reredos, and altar rail were made from a single wild cherry tree that grew on the site. It was a plantation church meant to provide a place of worship for the Polk families, their slaves, and their neighbors.<br /><br />Construction began in 1839 and completed three years later. Bishop James Hervey Otey, the first Episcopal Bishop of Tennessee, consecrated the church on Sept. 4, 1842. Leonidas Polk served as St. John's first rector and would later become the first Bishop of Louisiana and a general in the Confederate Army know as the 'Fighting Bishop'.<br /><br />Behind St. John's is the traditional churchyard burial ground where generals Cleburne, Granbury, and Strahl were buried. Years later their remains were removed and re-buried in other states, but their gravesites at St. John's have never again been used. All but one of the Polk brothers would eventually be buried at St. John's. Resting at St. John's are members of the Polk family, Civil War soldiers, and five Episcopal bishops including Bishop Otey.<br /><br />St. John's continued regular services until 1915 when the congregation dwindled to just one family. Since 1921, services are held only once a year on Whitsunday – the Feast of Pentecost. The service always draws a large crowd and afterward a picnic is held on the grounds.<br /><br />St. John's remains today much as it was during the 1800's. There is no electricity and no running water. It still has the original furnishings, hand-blown leaded glass windows, and the 1890 Packard reed pump organ. Also, the original silver chalice used by the Polk family is once again used for the Whitsunday service.<br /><br />For 160 years, St. John's kept a peaceful existence that not even the Civil War could betray. But the peace and serenity at St. John's came to an end when two present day teenagers broke into the church and vandalized it in May 2001. The tragedy occurred just one week before the annual pilgrimage to St. John's to celebrate Whitsunday.<br /><br />The church windows were broken out, the Baptismal font was damaged, and the organ that sat in the choir loft was thrown to the sanctuary floor below. Tombstones in the graveyard were toppled or destroyed. Two young men were later arrested and charged with the destruction.<br /><br />After news of the vandalism spread, the community – regardless of denomination – turned out to help cleanup the church and make temporary repairs so that its annual service could be held. Donations came from people near and far sympathetic to the tragedy the church had suffered. The anger and grief over what happened, as well as the show of support, demonstrate the affection for the historic church.<br /><br />Mary Polk Branch described St. John's Church in 1911 with these words, "This church of many memories stands in a cemetery of seven or eight acres surrounded by a stone wall. The large oak trees and the carpet of blue grass make it a lovely spot, but the doors of the church are closed, the windows unopened, the iron-gate in front locked. . . . In the distance is heard the sound of the automobile and the roll of heavy wagons upon the pike, and we realize the brightness of the world without and the busy life which surrounds the old church with its story of the past."<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /></div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TCVWzaBrtmI/AAAAAAAAAWA/VOEQjflvQN0/s1600/st_johns_church_engraving.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486887162180515426" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TCVWzaBrtmI/AAAAAAAAAWA/VOEQjflvQN0/s400/st_johns_church_engraving.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><i>An engraving of St John's Church that originally appeared for the article "The Country Church in America" in Scribner's Magazine, November 1897.</i><br /><br /><br /><p>For photographs of St. John's as it appears today, visit <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/20509217@N08/sets/72157606811809901/">Windscape studio</a> at flickr.com.</p><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1065456999566943796?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-58465492982048656732010-06-18T21:08:00.002-04:002010-06-18T21:13:10.727-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TBwY4nYyl6I/AAAAAAAAAVw/4SVp01Ez6DU/s1600/keeping_watch.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484285807155124130" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TBwY4nYyl6I/AAAAAAAAAVw/4SVp01Ez6DU/s400/keeping_watch.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>In youth when work <br />and worry about the future <br />seems all important <br />little time is spent <br />on the beauty <br />that surrounds us.<br /><br />But the time will come <br />when we realize <br />the future is receding <br />and we must make time <br />for that which <br />we are given.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Columbia, Tennessee</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-Awareness.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5846549298204865673?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-6319706869060938692010-06-11T21:32:00.003-04:002010-06-11T21:44:12.409-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TBLlNNbSOmI/AAAAAAAAAVo/fgrGR5Q9Hv0/s1600/song_i_remember.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481695711568476770" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TBLlNNbSOmI/AAAAAAAAAVo/fgrGR5Q9Hv0/s400/song_i_remember.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Haiku appeared in <a href="http://moonset.us/">moonset</a>, Spring/Summer 2010.<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-631970686906093869?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-12995342195309041012010-06-04T21:33:00.003-04:002010-06-04T21:36:24.705-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TAmpjZddEyI/AAAAAAAAAVg/mGZgtrNPeMg/s1600/morning_rose.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479096847267861282" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TAmpjZddEyI/AAAAAAAAAVg/mGZgtrNPeMg/s400/morning_rose.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>How perfectly<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 20px">and neatly<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">opens the pink rose<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">this bright morning,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 20px">the sun warm<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">on my shoulders,<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">its heat<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 20px">on the opening petals.<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">Possibly<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">it is the smallest,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 20px">the least important event<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">at this moment<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">in the whole world.<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 20px">Yet I stand there,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">utterly happy.<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px"><br /><p><i>— <a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/poets.htm#Oliver">Mary Oliver</a><br />From "Provincetown Arts", volume 24, 2009/10</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Wilmington, North Carolina</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Oliver-HowPerfectly.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1299534219530904101?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-13682115483253679412010-05-28T21:56:00.004-04:002010-05-28T22:13:28.242-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TAB0aGLzVoI/AAAAAAAAAVY/KQVtPzCpZng/s1600/flat_harrison.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476505138568058498" style="WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/TAB0aGLzVoI/AAAAAAAAAVY/KQVtPzCpZng/s400/flat_harrison.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>In 1964, Jeff Brown published his children's book titled "Flat Stanley." Illustrated by Tomi Ungerer, the book describes the adventures of Stanley Lambchop, a small boy who is accidentally flattened when a large bulletin board falls on him. Stanley now finds he can enter rooms by sliding under doors, can be used as a kite, and visit friends by mailing himself in an envelope. Brown continued the adventures of Flat Stanley in a series of books, but the concept of a flat little boy has also continued through school projects.<br /><br />The first Flat Stanley Project was started in 1995 by Dale Hubert, a third grade schoolteacher in Canada. Beginning by reading the book, students created paper Flat Stanleys and took them on adventures - keeping a journal of the places and activities. The journals were given to others and were asked to add their own adventures with Flat Stanley. Variations of this concept have been used in classrooms throughout Canada, the US, and the world.<br /><br />It was through a school project that Flat Harrison came to visit Wilmington, North Carolina. A third grade class in Alabama read the Flat Stanley book and the children cutout and colored their own flat person naming each one after themselves. Afterwards, each child mailed their flat person to a friend or relative asking them to take the flat person with them and take photos of the places and things that they did together. A journal or diary was to be kept documenting the visit. The flat person, photos, and journal were then mailed back to the teacher, so the class could discuss the travels and adventures of the students' flat people. <br /><br />If you have not read the original "Flat Stanley" book, Stanley does not remain flat forever. Tiring of the attention Stanley is getting, his younger brother Arthur uses a football air pump to return Stanley to his old self.<br /><br /><i>— Dan Hardison</i><br /><br /><br /><strong>Flat Harrison's Journal:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Flat_Harrisons_Journal.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1368211548325367941?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-66493695244601851752010-05-21T22:00:00.001-04:002011-05-06T21:52:12.390-04:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SxwgeugPFMA/TcSljqYQ3eI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/iCBRbtkIvsE/s1600/as_the_day_ends.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603785868445801954" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SxwgeugPFMA/TcSljqYQ3eI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/iCBRbtkIvsE/s400/as_the_day_ends.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>It had been a long wait, but the day finally arrived - a day at the beach. The smell of the ocean and the sound of crashing waves greet us as we approach from the dunes.<br /><br />There are squawking seagulls racing overhead, a breeze filled with mist, and the feel of bare feet in wet sand. Simple joy can be found walking in the surf and searching the tideline for treasures.<br /><br />As with all things that bring happiness time passes quickly and all too soon, it is time to leave. But the memories of the beach will stay with us and return to reward us time and again.<br /><br />for a few moments<br />all the world is standing still –<br />lost in a daydream<br /><br /><i>— Dan Hardison</i><br /><br /><br /><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina<br /><br /><br /></i><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-AtTheBeach.pdf">Read or print PDF</a><br /><br /><br /><p></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-6649369524460185175?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-53287797458645304032010-05-15T23:19:00.002-04:002010-05-15T23:21:08.440-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S-9kco4E3EI/AAAAAAAAAVI/aWlRWlTGalM/s1600/where_the_water_falls.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471702515450174530" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S-9kco4E3EI/AAAAAAAAAVI/aWlRWlTGalM/s400/where_the_water_falls.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Fall Creek Falls State Park, East Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.simplyhaiku.com//">Simply Haiku</a>, Autumn 2009, vol 7 no 3.<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5328779745864530403?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-47719803846633654442010-05-07T21:57:00.003-04:002010-05-07T22:03:41.844-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S-TFaV1mONI/AAAAAAAAAVA/A3UUFT0SjzE/s1600/still_water_on_the_tellico.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468712903863843026" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S-TFaV1mONI/AAAAAAAAAVA/A3UUFT0SjzE/s400/still_water_on_the_tellico.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>My being<br />is as the waters of a river;<br />passing through time and change<br />and creations of God<br />and man<br />that line my way.<br />Ever changing, ever moving,<br />pursuing paths<br />not always of my choosing . . .<br />traveling at a pace<br />not always of my heart's desire,<br />toward some obscure horizon;<br />some uncertain destiny.<br /><br />Like the river,<br />I am moved by powers<br />I cannot command;<br />sometimes to linger<br />in desolate and ugly places<br />'til I become<br />a part of what they are . . .<br />and their look<br />is on my face . . .<br />Then suddenly to be swept<br />past things of beauty,<br />things of worth,<br />too fast to grasp . . .<br />too fast to comprehend.<br /><br />My life<br />is as the waters of a river<br />and I cannot change my course.<br />Perhaps, there was a time,<br />somewhere in the beginning,<br />but not now.<br />So I will take the path I must<br />toward whatever seas await me.<br /><br /><p><i>— <a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/poets.htm#Metcalf">Jim Metcalf</a><br />From his book “In Some Quiet Place.”</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Tellico Plains, Tennessee</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Metcalf-WatersOfTheRiver.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4771980384663365444?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-10974719237006800672010-04-30T21:35:00.000-04:002010-05-07T21:57:29.254-04:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S9zXB-r7dgI/AAAAAAAAAU4/yA-KoxRjKVY/s1600/the_river_front.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466480476728030722" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S9zXB-r7dgI/AAAAAAAAAU4/yA-KoxRjKVY/s400/the_river_front.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Wilmington, North Carolina<br />(unused - undivided back, early 1900's)<br /><br /><br />In earlier times, towns were settled along the banks of a river to take advantage of the river's use for transportation and to move commerce. Warehouses, naval stores, and docks would line the banks of the river. Even though the river itself provided a means of travel, many rivers also presented the problem of crossing from one side to the other. Such is the history of Wilmington, North Carolina, on the Cape Fear River.<br /><br />Wilmington was first settled in the 1720s and was important not only for its location on the Cape Fear River, but also its closeness to the Atlantic Ocean where the Cape Fear flows. The earliest means of crossing the river was by oar-powered flatboat ferries. Ferries of various types continued to operate on the river into the 1930s carrying passengers, goods, and later automobiles. The first bridge in Wilmington to cross the Cape Fear River did not appear until 1929 and like the ferries, there was a toll to cross.<br /><br />As the city grew, so did its need for crossing the river. Today there is the Cape fear Memorial Bridge that opened in 1969, and the Isabel S. Holmes Bridge that opened in 1979. There are currently plans to build a third bridge, which ironically would be a toll bridge like the earlier bridges and ferries.<br /><br />Like many river towns of today, Wilmington's riverfront has changed from that of a working riverfront to one of condos, retail shops, restaurants, pleasure boats, and tourists. But while those in a rush can take to the bridges to hurriedly get from one side of the river to the other, one can also take to the river by tour boat or river taxi to enjoy the beauty of the river at the leisurely pace of those early ferries.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-1097471923700680067?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-29452563645163926412010-04-23T21:38:00.005-04:002010-07-25T20:17:44.673-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S9JMmb_wLLI/AAAAAAAAAUw/2Czwcg9rA-w/s1600/reflecting_back.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463513521187728562" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S9JMmb_wLLI/AAAAAAAAAUw/2Czwcg9rA-w/s400/reflecting_back.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>She was six-years old when her fascination with horses began. She dressed in horse themed cloths, collected horse memorabilia, and dreamed of having her own horse someday.<br /><br />One spring day, we took her on a horse drawn carriage ride that took visitors on a guided tour of the historical downtown. As we took our seats on the carriage, the driver noticed her enthusiasm with the two horses hitched to the carriage. He offered her the seat next to him and she jumped at the chance to sit upfront.<br /><br />As we slowly made our way along the streets, the driver offered her the reins and asked her to lead the horses. Wide-eyed and smiling broadly, she eagerly took the reins and for the rest of the tour dutifully guided the team along the busy streets. The horses were old veterans of the tour and had made many a trip along the downtown streets. Unknown to her, they would have faithfully followed the tour path whether or not there were hands on the reins. After the ride was over, she beamed for the rest of the day.<br /><br />Since that day, she has become an equestrian rider, competed in horse shows, owned her own horses, and is now preparing to enter college.<br /><br />glints of sun<br />on the water's surface –<br />thoughts in time<br /><br /><i>— Dan Hardison</i><br /><br /><br /><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Wetumpka, Alabama<br /><br /><br /></i><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-TheCarriageRide.pdf">Read or print PDF</a> <p></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-2945256364516392641?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-52015755852568589192010-04-16T19:57:00.001-04:002010-04-16T20:08:04.354-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S8j51Q80-CI/AAAAAAAAAUo/x9uaSvuSGFI/s1600/a_splash_of_color.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460889241665206306" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S8j51Q80-CI/AAAAAAAAAUo/x9uaSvuSGFI/s400/a_splash_of_color.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Hampstead, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.simplyhaiku.com//">Simply Haiku</a>, Autumn 2009, vol 7 no 3.<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5201575585256858919?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-46408662760924883602010-04-09T21:25:00.002-04:002010-04-09T21:30:11.547-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S7_Tu5h5uaI/AAAAAAAAAUg/B3UulR7F1EE/s1600/beyond_the_valley.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458314076066789794" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S7_Tu5h5uaI/AAAAAAAAAUg/B3UulR7F1EE/s400/beyond_the_valley.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>(After George W. Jones)<br /><br />Mountain born and bred they say, <br />and it is from this mountain <br />that he has never strayed.<br />His home is, as it has always been, <br />a cove in a narrow valley.<br /><br />A simple life for a simple man –<br />never wanting more, <br />never needing more, <br />never venturing beyond <br />the tree lined rim.<br /><br />Then the day came when<br />he traveled beyond the valley<br />to a bluff on the other side <br />of the mountain.<br /><br />The vastness of land<br />stretching out before him<br />caused him to exclaim,<br />"So that's the world. <br />God almighty ain't she a whopper!"<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Western, North Carolina</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-SoThatsTheWorld.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4640866276092488360?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-34307109748037681962010-04-02T20:17:00.003-04:002010-04-02T20:24:08.599-04:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S7aJlDf8rrI/AAAAAAAAAUY/grMCDmmPr4s/s1600/flight.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455699268293406386" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S7aJlDf8rrI/AAAAAAAAAUY/grMCDmmPr4s/s400/flight.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Sometimes, from the far-away,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">Wing a little thought to me;<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">In the night or in the day,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">It will give a rest to me.<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">I have praise of many here,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">And the world gives me renown;<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Let it go – give me one tear,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">'Twill be a jewel in my crown.<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">What care I for earthly fame?<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">How I shrink from all its glare!<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">I would rather that my name<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">Would be shrined in some one's prayer.<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Many hearts are all too much,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">Or too little in their praise;<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">I would rather feel the touch<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">Of one prayer that thrills all days.<br /><br /><p><i>— <a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/poets.htm#Father_Ryan">Abram J. Ryan</a></i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Montgomery, Alabama</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Ryan-Lines.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-3430710974803768196?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-45168323149905116862010-03-26T20:55:00.006-04:002010-03-26T21:09:34.378-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S61Xtxl0DQI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/-hjYrRxUT1A/s1600/pavilion_on_automobile_road.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453111167733206274" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 249px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S61Xtxl0DQI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/-hjYrRxUT1A/s400/pavilion_on_automobile_road.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Asheville, North Carolina<br />(Unused - divided back, early 1900's)<br /><br /><br />Many of us today take travel on Interstate Highways for granted. Few of today's travelers remember the days of traveling before there was a network of limited-access multilane highways crisscrossing the US. Although we all experience the frustration of traffic tie-ups and construction delays associated with Interstates, travel by road could – and has been – much worse.<br /><br />The Interstate Highway System is the largest highway system in the world and the largest public works project in history. Officially, it is the Dwight D. Eisenhower National System of Interstate and Defense Highways. The system is named for President Eisenhower who was instrumental it its formation by the federal government in 1956. The concept was not only to provide a road system for private and commercial transportation, but also key ground transport routes for military supplies and troops in case of an emergency or foreign invasion.<br /><br />The completion of the Interstate System as originally planned occurred in 1992. Since then, work has continued to add bypasses, spurs, and new routes not part of the original plan. Besides accomplishing its initial goal of providing private, commercial, and military transportation, the system of roadways has also been used for evacuations in the event of hurricanes and other natural disasters.<br /><br />When I-40 was completed in the 1980s to become a major highway linking the east and west coasts, a sign was erected near the start of the westbound section in Wilmington, North Carolina that read "Barstow, Calif. 2,554 mil." With the completion, Charles Kuralt lamented, "Thanks to the interstate highway system, it is now possible to travel from coast to coast without seeing anything."<br /><br />The late Wilmington, North Carolina artist Claude Howell told stories of his family traveling by car in the 1920s from Wilmington to Asheville, North Carolina to visit relatives when he was young. Much of the trip was made over dirt roads using trees with painted marks to guide the way. The trip took 3 days to complete. Today, using I-40 to make the same trip to Asheville takes 6 hours.<br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4516832314990511686?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-70883561396031570422010-03-19T21:08:00.003-04:002010-03-19T21:14:27.705-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S6QguV1_UwI/AAAAAAAAAUI/jGBD-R9SN38/s1600-h/along_the_cape_fear_river.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S6QguV1_UwI/AAAAAAAAAUI/jGBD-R9SN38/s400/along_the_cape_fear_river.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450517429534806786" /></a><br /><br /><div>There's a beautiful river, the After A While,<br />With travelers drifting away;<br />It flows through the country of Putting Things Off,<br />Till it broadens out into the bay.<br /><br />Far down at the mouth of this slow-winding stream<br />Is the city of Never, I hear,<br />And those who would drift on the eddying tide<br />Must tie at its tumbledown pier.<br /><br />So if you wouldn't go to the city I've named,<br />Don't ask me the "why" or the "how";<br />Just portage today, to the stream o'er the hill,<br />That turbulent river, the "Now"!<br /><br /><p><i>— <a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/poets.htm#Elwell">Stillman J. Elwell</a><br />From his book "Windows of Thought"</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Brunswick Town, North Carolina</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Elwell-TheAfterAWhile.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-7088356139603157042?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-73626391317018726362010-03-12T20:36:00.003-05:002010-03-12T20:38:28.142-05:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S5rsP7RjRXI/AAAAAAAAAUA/m5NXNlUCPfQ/s1600-h/winter_weavings.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447926457611535730" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S5rsP7RjRXI/AAAAAAAAAUA/m5NXNlUCPfQ/s400/winter_weavings.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, February 2010<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-7362639131701872636?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-37701643764981266802010-03-05T21:20:00.002-05:002010-03-05T21:27:00.568-05:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S5G8kgsRt2I/AAAAAAAAAT4/ra9llzUI7NY/s1600-h/wintry_world.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445340759904597858" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S5G8kgsRt2I/AAAAAAAAAT4/ra9llzUI7NY/s400/wintry_world.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Stepping into morning<br />with air crisp and cold <br />and the wind sighing <br />through the trees.<br /><br />Footsteps seem intrusive <br />in this wintry world<br />where not even bird<br />or animal stir.<br /><br />I stand amidst a world <br />devoid of color and remember . . . <br />a time of warmth when <br />nature was at its fullest. <br /><br />But not so today <br />for now, it is only a memory –<br />a fond remembrance until <br />blooms come again.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Wilmington, North Carolina</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-UntilBloomsCome.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-3770164376498126680?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-82042535661353667862010-02-26T21:37:00.004-05:002010-02-26T21:42:04.519-05:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S4iFnXWcMTI/AAAAAAAAATw/OIW-W1pz8_I/s1600-h/duck_river.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442747061006774578" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 249px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S4iFnXWcMTI/AAAAAAAAATw/OIW-W1pz8_I/s400/duck_river.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Columbia, Tennessee<br />(Used - postmark 1908)<br /><br />The Duck River in Middle Tennessee is the longest river located entirely within the state. It is also one of the longest free-flowing rivers in the eastern United States, and it is considered one of the most biologically diverse rivers in North America. Its latest honor is the designation by National Geographic as one of four sites that are the most biologically richest places in the world.<br /><br />The National Geographic article, "Within One Cubic Foot, Miniature Surveys of Biodiversity," appears in the February 2010 issue of the magazine. For the survey, National Geographic used a 12-inch tank, dipped into the water, to determine the bounty of life at each location. For the Duck River survey, a spot was chosen at Lillard Mill 15-miles east of Columbia.<br /><br />The Duck River flows for over 290 miles through seven counties before merging into the Tennessee River and provides recreation and drinking water for more than 250,000 Tennesseans. Along its route is a 37-mile stretch designated as a State Scenic River and an area that is part of the Tennessee National Wildlife Refuge. It is home to more than 650 species, more than found in all of the streams of Europe combined, and includes 150 fish species and more freshwater mussel species than any river in the Southeast.<br /><br />Major towns along the Duck include Manchester, Shelbyville, Columbia, and Centerville. In 1973, construction of the Columbia Dam was begun on the Duck to be a TVA reservoir. The dam was meant for flood control and recreation, and not to produce electricity. Work was halted in 1983 after the dam was 90% complete when two endangered species of mussel were found. After determining that costs would far exceed benefits, the project was abandoned in 1995. The largely completed dam was dismantled and the area is now the Yanahli Wildlife Preserve.<br /><br />The diversity and wealth of life in the Duck River is credited to the river being part of an ancient watershed where its water has streamed over a limestone base for millions of years. Through the years, care has been given to keep the river flowing free and clean. The postcard (postmarked 1908) calls it the "Classic Duck River," and indeed it is.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-8204253566135366786?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-70564296463341066582010-02-19T20:49:00.004-05:002010-02-19T20:54:21.598-05:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S38_0mYw1jI/AAAAAAAAATo/T-mMjOTWzjI/s1600-h/moons_benediction.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440137047777007154" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S38_0mYw1jI/AAAAAAAAATo/T-mMjOTWzjI/s400/moons_benediction.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Pastel and handmade paper</i><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.worldhaiku.net/">World Haiku Association</a>, January 2010 <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-7056429646334106658?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-51069119259377799952010-02-12T20:33:00.001-05:002010-02-12T20:35:14.943-05:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S3YA3qSlMFI/AAAAAAAAATg/Qqx83oIeT3Y/s1600-h/frosty_morn.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437534556341481554" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S3YA3qSlMFI/AAAAAAAAATg/Qqx83oIeT3Y/s400/frosty_morn.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>The last days of winter<br />filled with ice and snow<br />have brought a longing <br />for spring to come.<br /><br />But today feels like spring <br />with its warm air and sunshine,<br />and a sense of renewal<br />that has long been absent.<br /><br />Birds have taken flight <br />in search of new surroundings<br />and squirrels have ventured out <br />in the warmth of their world.<br /><br />But this wonderful day<br />is only a tease<br />of what our thoughts<br />have been longing for.<br /><br />For tomorrow will be <br />another winter day<br />and the cold and gloom<br />will feel even worse . . . <br />after winter's tease<br />of what's to come.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Bledsoe County, Tennessee</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-WintersTease.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5106911925937779995?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-33090541238015731462010-02-05T21:05:00.001-05:002010-02-05T21:05:08.551-05:00<div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S2t5iKAciII/AAAAAAAAATY/wJWo_dLP6iM/s1600-h/wanting_a_bird.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434571003061373058" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S2t5iKAciII/AAAAAAAAATY/wJWo_dLP6iM/s400/wanting_a_bird.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>The snow has gone,<br />But the naked tree<br />Has yet no bird<br />For us to see:<br /><br />Against the sky<br />The tree stands tall,<br />Wanting a bird,<br />Shapely and small,<br /><br />To break the lean<br />Black bough austere, –<br />And break the frozen<br />Silence, here,<br /><br />With a spring note,<br />Startling as thunder,<br />On ears awaiting<br />That first wonder.<br /><br /><p><i>— <a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/poets.htm#Morton">David Morton</a><br />From his book "Angle of Earth and Sky," 1941.</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Wilmington, North Carolina</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Morton-WeatherNote.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-3309054123801573146?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-68722429510022388342010-01-30T09:13:00.005-05:002010-01-30T10:20:45.181-05:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S2RN7gwt6NI/AAAAAAAAATQ/IegF4zG0z6g/s1600-h/the_arcade.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432552735317551314" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 251px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S2RN7gwt6NI/AAAAAAAAATQ/IegF4zG0z6g/s400/the_arcade.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Nashville, Tennessee<br />(Unused - undivided back era, early 1900's)<br /><br />When you think of a mall, do you think of a large enclosed structure containing retail shops and restaurants, or a complex where young people like to congregate and "hangout," or maybe a place where senior citizens go to walk? We like to think of today's shopping mall as being a modern convenience that had its beginnings during the 1970's as an enclosed version of the shopping centers or strip malls that came with the rise of suburban living after World War II. Actually, the mall concept goes back a bit further.<br /><br />The shopping mall is based on the traditional marketplace. One of the largest covered marketplaces in the world is the Grand Bazaar of Istanbul, which is still active today after being built in the 15th century. The oldest mall in the United States is the Arcade in Providence, Rhode Island, that was built in 1828. The large-scale fully enclosed shopping mall as we know it today can be traced to Northgate Mall, built in Seattle, Washington, in 1950.<br /><br />In Nashville, Tennessee, the indoor shopping experience can be traced to the "Arcade." Built in 1903, it is located between Fourth and Fifth Avenues in downtown Nashville at what was then known as Overton Alley. It is a two-level complex with a glass roof and identical Palladian facades at each end. At the time of the Arcade's opening, it was described as "the only building of the kind in the South."<br /><br />The Arcade contained some of the best retail stores found in Nashville and offered services from a barbershop to a post office. The Arcade is still open today offering visitors a variety of stores, cafes, and art galleries.<br /><br />The concept of the mall has grown and changed since its earliest days, but the idea of an enclosed shopping experience still rings true. Nashville's Arcade is an active example of one of the mall's early inceptions.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-6872242951002238834?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-25826432406265668942010-01-22T20:19:00.000-05:002010-01-22T20:19:41.796-05:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S1pOK7Nh3zI/AAAAAAAAASw/45_ukvNu5SI/s1600-h/last_rose_of_summer.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429738250348650290" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S1pOK7Nh3zI/AAAAAAAAASw/45_ukvNu5SI/s400/last_rose_of_summer.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Cookeville, Tennessee</i><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-2582643240626566894?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-53916708424901493592010-01-15T20:28:00.000-05:002010-01-15T20:28:05.088-05:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S1EUq9roFBI/AAAAAAAAASo/g1s-eRyo-hE/s1600-h/grey_day.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427141754302764050" style="WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S1EUq9roFBI/AAAAAAAAASo/g1s-eRyo-hE/s400/grey_day.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Morning has come,<br />but as yet no sun –<br />grey clouds fill the sky.<br /><br />The air is still<br />and all about is quiet –<br />nothing is stirring.<br /><br />As if all were waiting<br />for what may happen next,<br />but for now the world<br />still wants to slumber.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Cookeville, Tennessee</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-Slumber.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5391670842490149359?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-52324273206128411032010-01-08T21:02:00.001-05:002010-01-08T21:02:43.433-05:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S0fiHT2XpbI/AAAAAAAAASg/-Gyno9MzXCA/s1600-h/stepping_lightly.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424552891406329266" style="WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/S0fiHT2XpbI/AAAAAAAAASg/-Gyno9MzXCA/s400/stepping_lightly.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>I am so tired and weary,<br />So tired of the endless fight,<br />So weary of waiting the dawn<br />And finding endless night.<br />That I ask but rest and quiet –<br />Rest for days that are gone,<br />And quiet for the little space<br />That I must journey on.<br /><p><i>— <a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/poets.htm#Cotter">Joseph S. Cotter, Jr.</a></i></p><br /><p><i>Photo by Dan Hardison<br />Wilmington, North Carolina</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Cotter-Supplication.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-5232427320612841103?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-49811990169809926872009-12-25T10:09:00.003-05:002010-12-17T19:25:59.483-05:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/SzTWBC5EllI/AAAAAAAAASY/YsIzOPrOcP8/s1600-h/wreath.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419191565078009426" style="WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/SzTWBC5EllI/AAAAAAAAASY/YsIzOPrOcP8/s400/wreath.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><p><i>mixed media artwork by Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-4981199016980992687?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-62874930652099857292009-12-19T21:14:00.002-05:002010-12-17T19:26:28.324-05:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/Sy2Fz1xcJjI/AAAAAAAAASQ/8Rfe-_tD2Jg/s1600-h/everlasting_light.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417133052450842162" style="WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/Sy2Fz1xcJjI/AAAAAAAAASQ/8Rfe-_tD2Jg/s400/everlasting_light.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Flower – Flower, why repine?<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">God knows each creature's place;<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">He hides within me when I shine,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">And your leaves hide His face.<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">And you are near as I to Him,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">And you reveal as much<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Of that eternal soundless hymn<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">Man's words may never touch.<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">God sings to man through all my rays<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">That wreathe the brow of night,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">And walks with me thro' all my ways – <p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">The everlasting light.<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Flower – Flower, why repine?<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">He chose on lowly earth,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">And not in heaven where I shine,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">His Bethlehem and birth.<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Flower – Flower, I see Him pass<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">Each hour of night and day,<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Down to an altar and a Mass<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">Go thou! and fade away.<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Fade away upon His shrine!<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">Thy light is brighter far<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px">Than all the light wherewith I shine<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 40px">In heaven, as a star.<br /><p style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: 0px"><br /><p><i>— <a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/poets.htm#Father_Ryan">Abram J. Ryan</a></i></p><br /><p><i>Digitally Enhanced Photo <br />by Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Ryan-TheStarsSong.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-6287493065209985729?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-77796985139551390302009-12-11T20:56:00.001-05:002010-12-17T19:26:57.444-05:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/SyL3TpLf1YI/AAAAAAAAASI/0nheCT67Qek/s1600-h/the_christmas_card.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414161618896409986" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/SyL3TpLf1YI/AAAAAAAAASI/0nheCT67Qek/s400/the_christmas_card.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>It seems the decorations <br />go up earlier each year – <br />gaudier than ever.<br />And the madhouse they call <br />seasonal shopping – <br />is it really worth it?<br />Somewhere among <br />the hustle and bustle, <br />the fake greenery, <br />the electronic greetings, <br />the materialism of getting <br />rather than giving, <br />I fear the spirit of Christmas <br />is being lost.<br />So nice to receive <br />a card of paper <br />with a simple message <br />of good cheer.<br /><br /><p><i>— Dan Hardison</i></p><br /><p>Image: Christmas postcard<br />(Used - postmark 1913)<br />Message on back:<br />“Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas and a bright and Happy New Year.”</p><br /><p><strong>Also available:</strong><br /><a href="http://www.windscapestudio.com/some_tomorrows_morning/pdf/Hardison-TheChristmasCard.pdf">Read or print PDF</a></p><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-7779698513955139030?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-26651232924227035612009-12-04T21:21:00.000-05:002009-12-04T21:21:40.104-05:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/SxnDH0VDeZI/AAAAAAAAASA/Ie5bIv8l8do/s1600-h/as_day_becomes_night.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411570966335814034" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ew18R8ZNTKw/SxnDH0VDeZI/AAAAAAAAASA/Ie5bIv8l8do/s400/as_day_becomes_night.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><i>Haiku and image by Dan Hardison<br />Photo: Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina</i><br /><br /><br />Haiga appeared in <a href="http://www.simplyhaiku.com//">Simply Haiku</a>, Autumn 2009, vol 7 no 3.<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7447967859600879781-2665123292422703561?l=danhardison.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com0