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Posts tagged ‘Eastern Oregon Homesteads’

365 Days of Photography with Day Number 130 through 134…

Day 130…

©365-130Something forgotten. 

Day 131…

©365-131Brief pause.

Day 132…

©365-132Good drive, out of the fog. And then back into it. 

Day 133…

©365-133School House Central. 

Day 134…

©365-134Repeating from on high.

365 Days of Photography with Day Number 126 through 129…

Day 126…

©365-126Not of use by human hands much of anymore, but I assure you; owls make their presence known.

Day 127…

©365-127Newbill House

Day 128…

©365-128Who is this? And how’d he beat the shutter button thingy?

Day 129…

©365-129If you’re going for isolation, you needn’t look further.

A Farwell to Dead Ends

You can’t bloom if you’re not a flower. South east receiver J-Bolt Template Rd. Sailing atop cotton columns mystic to the waving bird. Heed the advice of the one fingered salute; dead ends suck.

MysticWandHowever, you can view his latest results by visiting, Wild West and the Newbill House.

365 Days of Photography with Day Number 124…

Day 124…

©365-124Dad and the Newbill House. Blemished and jaded (the house), while currents of fog carry strange tempos over erratic terrain bordering the remnants of Grizzly, Oregon.

No Entires Could Empty

Something from a late October. I remember this. Peering at feeling, a slow pulse. Not getting close, shooting at seventy five. Casual stuff. Nothing abnormal. Last twenty minutes of light. Friction of breeze tangled in sage, a low glow coupled with the wanting of a fire horizon, the hopes of something along those lines, which never occurred. Haunts or the happening of, or maybe it was both, luring in the curious eye. It was the opening scene, aiming through worn existence, a forgotten entrance. It was a kind of reckless, but still had this mood, although I’m not sure which mood. I remember thinking, with key of importance, the atmosphere was carved in mood. That was the scene. Within that cloud of mood (and again I’m not sure which mood, maybe it’s supposed to stay that way), I had found a pulse. 

©PE Adjusted

So it’s not entirely empty.

365 Days of Flash Photography, With Day Number 135-136

Here is Day 135… 

Adjusted135Bad combo. 

Here is Day 136…

 Adjusted136Good combo.

365 Days of Flash Photography, With Day Number Thirteen…and Fourteen

Since I was out of town over the weekend, with this being out in the middle of the desert, I was unable to post Saturday’s photo. So, here you’ll have both day Thirteen and Fourteen. Enjoy your Sunday evening!

Here is Day Number Thirteen…

365DFP-13Old boots. Aged boots. Found somewhere between here, and Bobcat Pasture. 

Here is Day Number Fourteen…


Best thing about this photo, no editing, no cropping, no touchups. Simple and yet mysterious. This is the Great Horned Homestead, upstairs, second story. The owner is now sporting my old pair of shades. No joke.

Greaty copy


Laughter Over Lemonade

My station, it’s been on the airwaves for 65 years. Tomorrow is its last day, last day to air. No joke. I guess they’ve been bought out. That’ll be different, no more rare oldies. I’ll be stuck with a few other stations, a few other options, which have grown increasingly stale. Lemonade House

You think they had good tunes when this house was occupied? Cold winters, frost covered floors. Sauna summers in the kitchen, no quality fans, no ac. Probably playing records, “You turned the tables on me.” Benny Goodman version, 1937. Big band sounds. What a deal. Swing era in the dining room, while a late sun spilled gold on everything in sight. Laughter over lemonade, slightly spiked for good measure. 



365 Days Of Great Pics Photography, #344 Daisy, Donnybrook, and the case of the Lone Wolf.

Once again, we went too far. It happens every time. Either it’s some cracked and parched section of asphalt, or worn washboard. It never fails, a simple drive turns into a mini road trip. 


This trip took us to the wild town of Ashwood, then over to Donnybrook. It’s some of the most remote back country I’ve seen, and I’ve seen lots of it. 

 Naked poplar and the remnants of a worn homestead. 

The area was once known as Axehandle, during the pioneer days. It was later known as Donnybrook, this during the ranch era.

Thickets of thistles poke along homestead trail ways.

 Then we met Daisy Thornton, she made photo #344. This was her story…

GPP365-344Daisy Thornton. Lifelong resident.  

Donnybrook. District 19.

“That’s where I went. From grade through high school. It was just a single room school, that’s all it ever really was.”

How long ago was that?

“Well, I’m 89 years old. I grew up right over that hill over there. I’ve lived here my whole life. My house over the hill, where my daughter lives, it’s over a hundred years old.”

Is this considered Donnybrook? Or Ashwood? 

“This was the Donnybrook vicinity. That was back before Jefferson county even existed. This was all Crook county, you know, and this was where my grandfather homesteaded and farmed.”

Is this the only school in the area?

“Third. This was the third school built. The others, well, they’re gone. One caught on fire, and the other once stood out behind this one here. My grandfather donated one acre of land, well, because we needed a new school! So, he donated an acre and they built the school here.”

That is really cool. What about the wagon?

“Oh dear. That was my grandfathers. He would use that for hauling in firewood, lumber, and hay. My husband would tag along, but that was during another time. You had wagons then.”

It’s beautiful out here. Very far from any surrounding towns.

“Oh yes. I had a wolf out front here. He was picking on antelope. They said they’d never be over here. Well, I know one thing, that was no coyote! And then the wild boars. They are thick. And such a pain!”

You live out here all alone? 

“Yep. My husband, he’s gone. My daughter lives up over the hill. My other daughter lives down the road, with her husband, and one of my kids just bought that section of land outside of Ashwood, where that homestead stands with them poplars.”

We were there earlier. We happened to get photos. Pretty cool.

“Oh yes. Everybody wanted that section of land. Well, this is my home. My garden stays green, because I’m blessed with water.”