Children of Dalton McLeod, Fuquay Springs (now Fuquay Varina), North Carolina, September 17, 1935, by Arthur Rothstein, via New York Public Library Digital Collections.
Their father was a sharecropper and the house was new, built under the New Deal Resettlement Administration (later the Farm Security Administration).
“Kenneth Hall gives daughter Peggy a shower with garden hose in front of their [Tennessee Valley Authority] defense home, Sheffield, Alabama,” 1942, Arthur Rothstein, via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.
“Mr. Garrity building a wading pool in the backyard for his children,” Yonkers, New York, 1942, by Arthur Rothstein for U.S. Office of War Information, via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.
“Road to Nicholson Hollow. Shenandoah National Park, Virginia,” October 1935, by Arthur Rothstein, via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.
I think this would be a good reference picture for making a dry stream bed path through a naturalistic garden (click to enlarge).
More on Nicholson Hollow this Sunday. . . .
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
che la diritta via era smarritaThe Divine Comedy – Pt. 1 Inferno – Canto 1 – (1-3)
13. In the middle of the journey
of our life
I came to myself
In a dark forest
The straightforward way
Misplaced.
(Schwerner, 2000)— Caroline Bergvall, from “VIA” (48 Dante Variations)
“Highway U.S. 30, Sweetwater County, Wyoming” by Arthur Rothstein, March 1940, via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.
Eternal prairie and grass, with occasional groups of trees. Frémont prefers this to every other landscape. To me it is as if someone would prefer a book with blank pages to a good story.
– Charles Preuss, Exploring with Frémont
Preuss was a mapmaker who accompanied John Frémont on two of his explorations of the American West in the 1840s. Together, they mapped the Oregon Trail and discovered Lake Tahoe.
Frémont — who was later the first Republican candidate for President — always played the iconic hero-explorer; Preuss, at least in his diaries, was a grumbling realist. “My pants are torn,” was the gist of his comments for the day the Frémont planted an American flag on what he believed was the highest place in the Rocky Mountains.
There’s a funny account of Preuss, here, on This American Life: “The Homesick Explorer.” And here.
enclos*ure 