Wood House. Wooden birdhouses on Wood porch.

1870 farmhouse built by Mr Wood. Rural & rustic. I first saw this in 1998, and it was going to rack and ruin. Rogue Valley, Highway 62. Eagle Point.
It is now upkept by a foundation, and can be the source of wonderful photos. It has appeared on numerous postcards - usually in the un-fixed up state. Today's Photo. © Jillian Crider.

Photobombed by a squirrel!

Going through my photos, and tagging them with keywords, and loved this ruined farmhouse (southern Oregon), so enlarged it. I started to laugh ...
I was ...
Photobombed by a squirrel!
This little guy looked up out of a ditch/creek? to see what was happening to an otherwise quiet rural area. Took 3 photos, he's in 2 of them. Made me laugh.

Life on the farm in the Northwest.

Oregon trail, and all that, it sometimes is not usual to thinking of being in 'old west' country. One day I stopped off at the historic Hanley Farm for what I hoped would turn out to be a photo op.

I was well-rewarded. Out by the barn were these 'cowboy' men, but they were overshadowed by their mighty equines. I believe them to be Belgian draft horses, and all rigged up for some work. None of the men are taller than the horses withers, yet I'm sure the men aren't short. If you've never seen these gentle equine giants before, try to make the effort.

Hanley Farm is just outside of downtown Jacksonville. It's a working farm, and has various events there throughout the year. The farm was established in 1857.

Mysterious fogs.

I always find fogs rather mysterious. I got lost crossing a road in London one night, just crossing a road - I couldn't find the other side. I tried to hire a taxi to take me home. As soon as I gave directions the cabbie would leave - they wouldn't drive through Hampstead Heath in the fog. Finally I got a cab to stop, and jumped in .... and refused to get out.

The Oregon coast is WONDERFUL. But I get disappointed with photo taking as it's rather foggy. Go a mile or few inland and it's 10 to 30 degrees warmer and cloudless blue skies. Without the fog, the Redwoods wouldn't grow, and I adore the Redwoods. In one last visit to the coast before winter the fog drifted in for the Sunday morning. We found ourselves driving down mysterious roads in the mysterious fog, never knowing what we would find. Roads full of cows transporting themselves to and from milkings, and crows landing on fence posts. This is one such crow/raven/black bird.