We have enjoyed a wonderful (yet busy) spring in north central Ohio.  There are always days that bring out the gloom and dark clouds.  These images show a farm that I have watched slowly disintegrate over the past three decades.  I wonder what the farm looked like when it was first homesteaded?  I wonder how many generations farmed this land?

This section of our county is very low and bog-like.  This marshy area has been somewhat abandoned until recently and is now slowly being reclaimed. The blues and greens play against each other in these images, leaving the viewer with a sense of longing.

It reminds me of the book of Ecclesiastes where the writer states, “Everything is meaningless . . . completely meaningless! What do people get for all their hard work under the sun? Generations come and generations go, but the earth never changes. The sun rises and the sun sets, then hurries around to rise again. The wind blows south, and then turns north. Around and around it goes, blowing in circles. Rivers run into the sea, but the sea is never full. Then the water returns again to the rivers and flows out again to the sea.  Everything is wearisome beyond description. No matter how much we see, we are never satisfied. No matter how much we hear, we are not content. History merely repeats itself. It has all been done before. Nothing under the sun is truly new. Sometimes people say, ‘Here is something new!’ But actually it is old; nothing is ever truly new. We don’t remember what happened in the past, and in future generations, no one will remember what we are doing now.”

Yet like the sudden and seeming unexpected return of spring from a long cold winter, the sun breaks through the clouds to remind us there is always hope in the midst of all the gloom.



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