Surely your correspondent is hardly alone in being distressed by the way autumn and Thanksgiving are trampled in the Christmas creep/rush. Fall is the favourite season of many, yet it seems we’re expected to ignore it in the name of Christmas busy-ness.
Isn’t that a shame? And I’m a summer woman, through and through!
I know today is December first, and thus really and truly the start of winter, but let’s take a few final moments to enjoy autumn: the rich fragrances, the sight of falling leaves and the delightful crunch of them underfoot, copious amounts of sunshine combined with an awakening nip in the air, the last glorious riot of colour meant to tide us through the dark, grey stretch of winter now shouldering its way in. Shall we?
That may be my longest post title yet, but that’s barely half the name of of this pretty covered bridge—”The Mink Hollow Covered Bridge in Oil Mill Hollow Over Arney Run Near Borcher’s Mill”! That means this bridge has the longest name of any covered bridge in the nation, something I was unaware of when photographing the structure.
Built by Jacob Brandt in 1887, the bridge is 51 feet long and stands on its original sandstone abutments. Part of one of Fairfield County’s historic parks, crosses Arney Mill Run in Lancaster; the “Oil Mink Hollow” part comes from the days when a flaxseed-pressing mill stood nearby.
The Mink Hollow Covered Bridge et cetera, et cetera, et cetera boasts of not just a long name, but also an unusual structure—if I understand correctly, its central X-brace, combined with multiple Kingpost through truss, are unique to the Buckeye State. This is one of eighteen (or sixteen; there seems to be disagreement) covered bridges in Fairfield County—eighteen remaining of the county’s original two hundred and twenty! Indeed, Fairfield County can still boast of having more covered bridges than any other county in Ohio.
There are reports that the bridge is illuminated at night—I may have to go back for that after a really good snow despite the cold. Wouldn’t those make lovely photos?
In a now-quiet Ohio Valley steel town—right around the corner from the famously abandoned car dealership—stands a building so grand for its purpose, it’s difficult to believe it was simply a greenhouse and florist. The English Tudor-style building is so very handsome it seems to have been plucked from one of Britain’s verdant fields and plunked in the centre of fields of concrete instead; that it is flanked by massive, overgrown greenhouses made it an even more outstanding sight.
This is not the original Riverview florist and greenhouse headquarters (nor the last); that caught fire in 1935. The Tudor edifice in my photographs was designed by East Liverpool architect Robert Beatty, with the admonition he include pieces of the old greenhouse building—specifically, charred beams rescued from the ashes of the original. These Beatty integrated into the French doors leading to the greenhouses. Presumably, there they remain, future success built, as it nearly always is, on the success of the past.
You’re probably thinking this enterprise must have been at least a little successful for such an impressive structure to serve a florist & greenhouse during the Great Depression, and you’re right. It’s such a marvellous story, too!
This is the dashboard for the 1960 T-bird whose toothy smile I shared with you recently. Stunning, isn’t it? My car’s dashboard—while I really, really like my car—does not hold a candle to this gleaming chrome and enamel. As you have likely gathered, I am a big believer in beauty every day, because beauty feeds, nurtures, and soothes our harried souls and spirits. I could go on and on about why, but doubt it’s necessary (also, I just don’t have time, alas). To deprive men of beauty is to deprive them of order, of motivation, of contact with their very soul. So far as I’m concerned, that philosophy goes for automobiles, whose steering wheels many spend huge portions of their life behind merely commuting to work and back every year, too!
The passenger’s view, because the passenger might as well enjoy the ride, too!
Have a fine Monday, and don’t forget to absorb beauty where you’re able to find—or create it. You won’t even need to thank yourself later!
Timing is everything, as we all know. Zipping down one of Ohio’s many country roads, I spotted this “Frank” doing its work in the fields. There wasn’t even time to hop out of the car—but I’m still very happy with this shot! A fine stroke of luck. All the shot is missing is a kindly-looking middle-aged farmer, proudly surveying the activity on his farm (he’s probably the fellow driving the harvester).
Also, random internet user tip….Have you been glaring angrily at your computer due to its not performing correctly? As in, you’re unable to post to Flickr, your blog, or even see letters on webpages?
Reinstall the browser. You’ll save yourself two full days of frustration and re-booting your computer thinking it is the one responsible for your problems.
One of many little independent places along America’s back roads, nothing could be learned about Centenary House Sewing Center online; moreover, as every seamstress knows, entering such places can be terribly dangerous to one’s budget, so I avoided walking in. Budgetary concerns never stop me from capturing a handsome building when there’s room to pull over, though, and despite being on the far end of the road’s mountain-enforced curve, I could not resist this sewing shop! There’s a close-up of the sewing machine-topped sign after the cut. Continue reading →