The Horse Laughed

Horse Laugh

I began photography for the Rock City Barns book on October 24th, 1994, going up U.S. Highway 11 to the Knoxville area, then up U.S. 27 into northeastern Kentucky. That was a three-day trip. The following week I was able to arrange my studio schedule to allow four days away. This time I went up through northeast Tennessee on U.S. 11. I was able to make many good pictures on this trip, because Highway 11 had for many years been a principle route from the northeastern states through the mid-South to Florida, and Rock City had painted their sign on a large number of barns, most of which were still standing.

The best, however, was reserved for last. The final stop on my way home was a barn on U.S. 11 near Riceville, Tennessee, about 50 miles from my studio in Chattanooga. The barn was located behind and to one side of the farmhouse, and as I pulled into the drive it appeared that no one was home.

I immediately noticed that an old truck, long since abandoned to rust away in front of the barn, would be an excellent foreground element to frame the building and add depth to the composition. Using a Canon EOS 10s camera loaded with Fujichrome RDP100 (slide) film and a Canon 24mm f2.8 EF lens, I was positioning myself for the shot when up pranced a friendly horse, or maybe a large pony, just on the other side of the fence from me and smack-dab in the middle of my picture!

I decided to walk along the fence to see if the horse would follow me out of the picture. He did, but when I ran back to my chosen position he pranced along with me. I tried this maneuver two or three times, and the pony thought it was great fun. Finally, I thought “What the heck! I’ll just shoot it from here!” As I raised my camera the horse threw back his head and gave me the horse laugh!

Serendipity, which had been waiting for me all along, smiled and gave me the best photograph in the book and one that I consider one of my all-time best.

(Photograph copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone

A New (to Me) Old Mill

The Crosseyed Cricket Mill

Roane County, Tennessee. c. 1850

As I mentioned in my previous post, this past weekend featured a big family gathering at the home of my son Don in Knoxville, Tennessee to celebrate the graduation of his son, Devlin, from high school. To relieve the congestion of aunts, uncles, and cousins from as far away as Indiana stuffing every nook and cranny of Don’s and Kim’s spacious home, Louise and I hooked our little travel trailer to our truck and made arrangements (actually, we made the arrangements well in advance) to camp at the TVA campground at Melton Hill Dam on the Clinch River just west of Knoxville. The campground is in a very lovely setting, but campers are limited to three-week stays.

Since one of the things we hope to do after our house is sold is buy a larger trailer or a motor home, with a view to being able to spend several weeks or even months at selected locations (such as Florida in the winter and Knoxville in the spring), we decided to go looking for a campground suitable for an extended stay in the Knoxville area.

On U.S. Highway 321 just outside the Melton Hill TVA area, we noticed a sign on a side road advertising “The Crosseyed Cricket Campground.” It was only four miles, so off we went for a look. The office was closed and we couldn’t find anyone to talk to, but we drove around the property enough to see that it would be a pleasant place for an extended stay, and reasonably close to our Knoxville family.

Near the entrance to the campground, I noticed a very old, weathered, two-story, clapboard building, but did not give it my full attention because I was looking for the campground office. But as we were leaving, Louise said, “David, that’s an old mill!” And so it was. As those who have read much of this blog will know, that's the kind of thing I'm always looking for. As I wrote in the introduction to my book Backroads and Byways of Georgia, I'm drawn to the old, the historic, the quirky and offbeat, the strange and unusual, and the beautiful. Old houses, old churches, old courthouses, old mills, covered bridges and historic sites. 

The building on the right was once a restaurant.

I found a place to park and naturally, made some photographs. From an elderly gentleman in a nearby house, I learned that the mill is actually on the campground property and is maintained by the owners. From one of the old mill web sites that I have bookmarked I learned that the mill is the Crosseyed Cricket Mill, built on Cheney Creek around 1850. It’s on Paw Paw Plains Road in Roane County, Tennessee.

The overshot wheel is in good shape and

has apparently been recently repaired.

The day was heavily overcast, which is usually better for photographing such scenes because it reduces the contrast and avoids the dark shadows and washed out highlights of sunny days. The camera was my lovely Fuji X-H1 with the surprisingly sharp 16-50mm f3.5-5.6 lens. ISO was set to 3200 because of the overcast and because the X-H1 handles such speeds effortlessly.

(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone

Repost: My All-Time Best Photograph

BlogNote: I probably have a few readers who, no matter at which point they began reading this blog, have gone back and read every post from the beginning. Most probably have not, so just for fun (and because I'm in the midst of a big family gathering to celebrate my youngest grandson's graduation from high school)  I'm repeating that first post from August, 2011.

More than any other photograph I’ve ever made, this represents what photography, for me, is all about – beauty and mystery.

The year was 1989 and I was at the mission hospital at Abak, Ibom Province, Nigeria, on assignment for Church of God World Missions. Evening chapel service had just ended as the setting sun, its beams parallel to the ground, threw a splash of flame against the chapel wall.

I seldom used auto-exposure back then, but there was no time to do anything except raise my Olympus OM2n and click off three quick shots with the lens that was on it – a Tamron 100-300 f4 zoom at the 300mm setting. I noticed that the exposure on Fujichrome RD100 slide film was 1/15^th second at f4, so I had little hope of getting anything usable. No chimping in those days!

Back in the US, when the film was processed I was pleased to find that I had one very sharp exposure and another that was usable. This is the best one.

(Photograph copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone

Family Portraits

Do you make portraits of your family? I've been making casual and semi-casual portraits of mine for more than 50 years, and some of these photos are among my most prized possessions. Here are a few of them. Above is my wife Louise, at age 26. A print of this has graced my nightstand for many years. Following in order are: 

My father, Byrl T. Jenkins on his 90th birthday.

My mother, Louise Goodman Jenkins

My brother Steve.

My son Don (we called him Donny in those

days) playing in spray from a sprinkler.

A dignified PR portrait for my son Rob, the writer.

Louise and Harley.

Louise and Donnie at a campground pool, 1972

Keep a camera handy and don't miss out on opportunities to make portraits of your family. They will be precious to you and to them in years to come.

(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone