Titles of Pleasure

In west central Virginia and eastern West Virginia lies some of the most beautiful scenery you will find in the eastern US. My wife and I have explored this area a number of times and never get tired of it. We want to go back again since more is yet waiting to be discovered.

The grassland stretching out to the distant mountains reminds me of the endlessness of space. I think this photograph should be titled The Grace of Space. What do you think?


Colorful treasures lie in wait to surprise us with their beauty. Many times we lifted our hands in deep pleasure surrendering to the beauty of the moment. I will title this photograph Splash of Color.


This work worn little building screams of a lifetime of service and makes me ponder the seriousness of life. Why was it built? Who built it? And the most sober question of all, where are those people now? How did they live? How did they die? The Stately Elder seems an appropriate title.


We do well to stop in the middle of the road occasionally and look back where we came from. Though it was a pleasure to weave through those distant tree laden mountains it was pure pleasure to see them from a distance. Look back once in a while. You might have missed something. This photo is named A Backward Glance. Maybe you would name it something else?


Beautiful flowers, a bird flying so fast that he looks like a dot above the fence, a well-worn barn that has served well, a mysterious little shed, and relaxing mountains add depth to life. Don’t you think so? Wouldn’t you like to hide in that tall grass and let time and stress disappear into the distant mountains! I think it would be appropriate to name this one Deepening My Vision.


These little hills have found a special place to live. They are placed in a good position to watch the water gush from the distant mountains in a downpour of God’s love. I am not sure what to name this one. How about simply naming it Contentment?


Sheep gather for an afternoon nap in the shade of a helpful tree. I wonder if they found as much rest as I did viewing the placid scene. This one is easy to find a title. Rest!


This scene must be titled Lonely Among Beauty. This neglected building reminds me of the many lonely people. We so often are careful to make sure everything looks proper. We groom our surroundings but neglect caring for the little buildings that live among us. Minister to the lonely. Dash a bit of color on their life.


We live in a colorful neighborhood

We live in a colorful neighborhood.


Where the best is within reach.


Things generally line up.


The wind is tested.


The distance is not so distant.


We use available resources.


Getting there is always as great as being there.


There is no Pennsylvania Dutch word for old fashioned.


Stop in sometime. We are the first place at the end of the rainbow.

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Feathered Angel

This is a true story. Ike told it to me some years ago.

Ike enjoyed watching his graceful swans. But he also enjoyed his children and was concerned that they not fall into the pond. So he built a fence to keep the children safe.

Things changed over the years. After the children had grown up, Ike decided to take the fence down to make mowing easier. Eventually the children grew up and moved off the farm. But one thing remained constant. Swans always swam the length and breadth of the pond. Ike never tired of watching them.

After the children had moved away, Ike slowly began to realize that he was not able to do all the work himself. The farm was eventually sold to a nephew. But the swans stayed on the pond.

After the nephew had moved onto the farm, Ike talked to him about the fence, “I usually kept a fence around the pond to keep the children out, but after they grew up, I tore it down to make it easier to mow. But you have small children, so you need to think about that.”

Time went on and the nephew did not build a fence. The swans swam on. The nephew’s wife would periodically check on the children when they played outside. The children were to play in the yard and the swans were to swim on the pond. It was how life was meant to be.

One day when the good wife checked on one of her little boys, she was alarmed to find him missing. She looked all around the house but failed to find him. She called his name, but he did not answer. She walked to the edge of the spacious yard and peered toward the pond. She thought she detected something at the water’s edge but was not certain what it was.

Quickly she hurried to the pond. When she came closer, her heart beat fast. Her little boy was at the very edge of the pond, ready to walk in, or fall in, as fate would have it. Afraid that her cry would scare him, she silently ran to the pond.

When the dear mother was within a few steps of the boy, she noticed something else that stopped her dead in her steps! She clutched her throat as she stared at the scene before her. The boy was at the very edge of the water, ready to fall into a wet grave—except for one thing.

One of the swans was standing in the shallow water directly in front of the small boy, its body raised above the water. Its wings were spread out on either side of the little fellow. The boy could not enter the water. Those wings were a wall in front of him. The swan had turned into an angel guarding the boy from drowning!

The mother snatched the little one out of the water, holding him tightly to her bosom. The swan swam away. It was how life was meant to be.