God's country.

Below is an image I’ve seen my whole life.  An old barn in the field behind mom and dad’s house.

Storing hay for the winter.

And here’s a tree in my parents’ backyard that’s as old as I am.  Looking up at this angle forces you to breath in that crisp Tennessee air.

When your in the mountains, you’re closer to the heavens.  Here, the moon doesn’t wait for nightfall.

Now imagine sitting in your easy-chair taking it all in.  That’s my dad.

Harold Waller. Age 76.

O Tennessee, that gave us birth,
To thee our hearts bow down
For thee our love and loyalty
Shall weave a fadeless crown
Thy purple hills our cradle was;
Thy fields our mother breast
Beneath thy sunny bended skies,
Our childhood days were blessed.