Saturday, March 17, 2012

There is a season.



With every extensive car ride to northern Michigan a new layer of nostalgia is inevitably added to the memories of my childhood home. Although the time that I spent here has almost all but disappeared, I seem to be opening windows when I photograph the items that remain on the property. The emotions that have surfaced surprise me and I am becoming more and more grateful for the upbringing that I experienced. I feel as if I have lost out on many years of documenting change, neglect, love and reality.  I can't wait to catch up...


To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time of war, a time of peace
A time of love, a time of hate
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time of peace, I swear it's not too late!

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