Doorway on a rustic building in downtown Montgomery, West Virginia. Love the textures and patterns found on these old brick structures, each seems to offer something unique.
I have no idea if the colors of the truck and building are matching by plan or by happenstance, but either way the coordination is nearly seamless.
Early morning scene in Clay County, WV. I like the colors and contrast you can achieve before the sun creeps up.
One neat thing about West Virginia is that building codes are rarely enforced. This gives the populace an opportunity to get a little creative with their building endeavors and to improvise minor details, like maybe foundations, on the fly.
In this case it would appear that the larger structure is moving with glacierlike force and certainty toward the smaller structure, and in the process exerting a significant squeeze on the little white door.
Another photograph from my trip this past Sunday morning exploring the back roads of Roane County, West Virginia.
This little community center was in a very unlikely location, situated along a gravel road far from any significant cluster of population. But apparently it does serve an ongoing function as a gathering spot for the few who do live in the area, as it seemed to be well used and cared for.
This building is rather cryptically named, simply, West Virginia. And although it is indeed situated in the Mountain State, there is no other signage present to indicate what purpose it may serve. Yet another unsolved mystery here in the fair hills of WV.
And no, I did not find the missing ‘G’ anywhere.
I drove by this scene in Charleston, West Virginia a few weeks ago and had been waiting ever since for a chance to come back with my camera. Of course the image I had been carrying around in my mind’s eye did not include power lines or a flagpole, it’s funny how we’re able to tune such things out. I mean, really, how often do you notice a power line when you’re out walking about? As far as I know I’ve yet to see one this year, except maybe in some of my photos.
Then something changed. For some reason those who had led their lives in these places were there no more, whether by tragedy or choice. And no one was left to sweep the porch or paint the banisters, no one cared to resurrect once proud homes.
Living in West Virginia you see these places all the time. Take a drive in the country and there they are. It is likely a product of negative population growth, the fact that entire generations of children have had to leave their home state to have a chance at the American dream.
And yet the old places remain. They sit, waiting, as if they don’t realize that their time long ago ran out.