Revisited: Lone gull, lone cloud, lone man

24 07 2010

A recent comment from my father, a.k.a. The King of Texas, on one of my posts in December 2009:

I have been very remiss in not commenting on this posting and I extend my apologies! Obviously I’ve been very busy—too busy to acknowledge the photographic expertise reflected in these photos, particularly in the shot of that handsome chapeau sported by the handsome dude seated directly below said hat.

How I loved that hat! I remember chasing it in Arizona when an unkindly wind removed it from its wearer and sent it rolling and tumbling toward Canyon de Chelly with its wearer in hot pursuit. Had providence not placed a small bush a few feet from the precipice of the canyon, I may have followed that hat to the canyon’s floor, a sheer drop of 600 feet. However, thanks to providence, the hat’s forward progress was stopped by a strategically placed bit of flora, an indigenous plant equipped with thorny branches that stopped my hat in its race and in its tracks—and me in mine. No, I did not run into the bush—I wisely skidded to a stop when I saw the bush reach out and capture my hat.

That hat and I were inseparable for several more years, but one day it became conspicuous by its absence—it had mysteriously disappeared without leaving the slightest hint of how, when, where or why it left me.

I suspect that my hat felt—even though it was a straw hat rather than a felt hat—from the beginning of that windy day at Canyon de Chelly that its future was inextricably intertwined with the canyon floor, that because of its lightness and its ability to drift with the wind, it would wind up undamaged by the 600 foot drop, and would ultimately live a long life, squared securely atop the head of a person of the four-state region, either New Mexico, Arizona, Utah or Colorado, possibly a direct descendant of the greatest chief in Navajo history, or one of the Apache tribes, Geronimo or Chief Sitting Bull or another of the native American Indians immortalized in literature and movies and television, and still living in the tales told by the most respected elders of various tribes in the great Southwest. Tales of their exploits are also told in the great state of Texas, fantastic recitals that dance—precipitously, so to speak—on the rim of the unbelievable.

Please accept my abject apologies for my failure to respond sooner. I would also be remiss if, driven by my use of the word sooner, I failed to say that the word sooner reminds me that there are also many tall tales told in the great state of Oklahoma.

I do so say.

Reposted from 12/12/2009
Seagull on Chincoteague Island, Virginia; lone cloud somewhere in Colorado; and Dad during our road trip—Great Adventure #678—in 1990 (which he writes about in his recent blog posting, “Arizona apples & cheeseburger briefs” here). 35mm slides scanned by ScanCafe.com

© Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.

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Way out (south)west

25 02 2008

Here is just a small sampling of some of my southwest photos, scanned from 35mm Fuij film slides. Images cover Kodachrome Basin State Park in Cannonville, Utah (http://www.utah.com/stateparks/kodachrome.htm); Saquaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona (http://www.nps.gov/sagu/); White Sands National Monument, New Mexico (http://www.nps.gov/whsa/); Canyon de Chelly (and the White House Ruins) in Chinle, Arizona (http://www.nps.gov/cach/), and San Xavier del Bac Mission in Tucson, Arizona (http://www.sanxaviermission.org/)

© Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.

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