tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54064150608844031232012-02-16T08:35:01.657-05:00Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.comBlogger411100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-41041839910460615142011-11-20T17:38:00.006-05:002011-11-20T18:14:57.819-05:00

When Fall was at its peak in the area where I live, I regularly passed by a church sign that read, "Artist at work. Slow down." I smiled each time I read that, knowing that the beautiful landscapes all around were, indeed, some of God's finest masterpieces. I did slow down to look at His work and to thank Him for all He had created--and for giving me the vision to see His work.Along about that

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-23681903944179313452011-11-06T21:11:00.004-05:002011-11-06T21:26:51.596-05:00

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Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-31212312884052794792011-10-21T06:45:00.003-04:002011-10-21T06:57:36.890-04:00

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Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-52479479511271253232011-07-31T12:52:00.000-04:002011-07-31T12:52:25.886-04:00

Every September when the big yellow school buses rumble up and down the road, I get a lump in my throat. I remember seeing Jennifer, our firstborn, climb the big steps of the mini bus that picked her up for kindergarten. She seemed so small, so young, to be going off alone into her new world.As I waved goodbye to Jennifer, I felt alone and incredibly sad because the child with whom I had spent

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-52884172396793149352011-06-03T14:54:00.000-04:002011-06-03T14:54:59.427-04:00

My daddy used to say, “Honey, as you get older, time flies.”Being much younger then than I am now, I didn’t see how he could be right about that. Back then, Christmases and birthdays seemed years apart. Now, they seem to come every few months!When I was a child, some days felt interminably long, for often I had more time on my hands than I knew what to do with. So, as the hours dragged by, I’d

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(My brother's coffin and flowers.)Each time I’ve visited national cemeteries, I’ve sensed a reverential silence hovering over them. Visitors, even very young ones, speak softly. Some kneel beside a grave or stoop to arrange a bouquet of flowers. Others sit in contemplative silence underneath shade-giving trees. The atmosphere there seems a world apart from the hustle and bustle taking place

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-67880387754140546292011-05-08T14:25:00.013-04:002011-05-10T16:47:25.165-04:00

One afternoon when two-year-old Peyton was almost asleep in my arms, the phone rang. When I answered it, Peyton could also hear her mother’s voice. Peyton sat up immediately and reached for the phone. She and Jennifer talked for a minute before Jennifer said, “Go to sleep. Mama will be there when you wake up."Knowing Jennifer needed to go, I said, “Peyton, give the phone to Nana, please.”She

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-20307318879505691082011-04-18T10:20:00.005-04:002011-04-18T10:36:00.933-04:00

Note: A friend e-mailed me the following article, attributed to Erma Bombeck. I regret that I do not know where the words were published because I would love to give proper credit. I took the photos on March 13, 2011, at the annual kite flying event at the University of Georgia Research and Education Garden in Griffin, GA, a beautiful garden that is open to the public. Free admission.Children as

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-40845989449273846162011-02-07T10:13:00.007-05:002011-02-07T10:21:38.776-05:00

Note: Little did I know when I wrote this column on May 4, 2010, that it would be read at Mother's funeral on January 16, 2011.At this writing, my mother no longer knows me—or anyone else in our family—but we know her and remember the love she gave us and the many things she did for us as long as she could. It feels very strange—and terribly sad, of course—to see Mother looking quite well (for

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-18242378420517047212010-10-01T14:53:00.005-04:002010-10-01T15:00:44.942-04:00

For me, one of the most exciting things that happened during a day-long “water workshop” I attended was watching fellow camera club members become increasingly creative.The two photography instructors had set up “stations” around the large room, each designed to provide a different kind of image. For example, one station had a glass baking dish half-filled with water to which a few drops of oil

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-54264887768890473052010-09-18T14:44:00.007-04:002010-09-18T14:58:19.634-04:00

Drip. Drip. Drip. One drop followed another, each splashing into a glass bowl half-filled with water. Our assignment was to photograph a drop after it hit the water and splashed upward. That was easier said than done! Some of the 11 photographers who were trying to accomplish that ended up with a few beautiful images. As you might guess, not every picture was a keeper. One photographer said she

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-61880389297690573462010-08-02T22:43:00.005-04:002010-08-02T22:56:27.190-04:00

“Oh, my goodness! Come and look at this!” I said to my two oldest grandsons (ages 12 and 9) as I viewed the photos I’d taken earlier that day. “You can see the little straw-like thing that the butterfly is using to sip the nectar from the lantana!”As we discussed the photo, I said, “I believe that little straw is called a proboscis.” A quick search on the Internet confirmed that.Although I’ve

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-18638334195698818772010-06-13T13:23:00.011-04:002010-06-13T13:35:43.924-04:00

As I watched a piece of heavy equipment tear down an old building that had long been an historic landmark in our town, I thought, “This is coming down much faster than it went up.” According to an article in one of the local papers, those who attended the hotel’s grand opening in 1928 had deemed it “magnificent” and “gorgeous.” For many years, the four-story hotel attracted many visitors to

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-85810109526236283552010-05-03T23:24:00.007-04:002010-05-04T16:04:10.430-04:00

We worked in silence most of the time, not because we had to but because we were concentrating hard on the 16x20 oil painting we were supposed to complete during the eight-hour session. As the instructor began to move from student to student, someone called out, “Help! I need the magic brush!”Soft laughter erupted, and then several others said, “Me, too!”That continued throughout the day. But

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-88117593697440292872010-04-06T21:05:00.005-04:002010-04-06T21:16:15.960-04:00

I’ve taken lots of “people pictures” here lately. Some have been documentary— the kind that shows the subject in a particular setting and could be used to accompany a newspaper or magazine article that further explains the “who, what, when, where, why, and/or how.”Other photos I’ve taken have been less documentary and more “expressive.” For example, while attending a kite flying activity at the

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-63154636178798609122010-04-06T20:48:00.005-04:002010-04-06T21:01:14.218-04:00

If I were to describe today, I could echo what Charles Dickens said years ago: “It [is] one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold; when the summer is in the light, and winter in the shade.”The sun is shinning warmly enough (63 degrees, according to the thermometer), yet the brisk wind is bone-chilling. If I stand in a sheltered area, I don’t need a jacket; but if I

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-72508233503766580892010-04-06T19:54:00.011-04:002010-04-06T20:34:01.944-04:00

Everywhere I look, I see things that fill me with awe. For example, one mid-February afternoon, I went out into the yard to photograph. I had no idea what I’d find that would make a good subject for a photograph, but I felt confident I’d find something, even though the landscape was composed mainly of shades of brown, gray, and black.With pleasure, I noticed that the tender daffodil shoots had

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-48979817270418311212010-03-08T22:00:00.003-05:002010-04-07T06:42:00.896-04:00

For over two months now, I’ve been experiencing round-the-clock nausea. While my doctor has no definitive answer, yet, as to why, he has told me I do have gastritis and esophagitis, which he attributes to acid reflux. He wants me to have more diagnostic tests to find out for sure what’s really causing the problem. In the meantime, I continue to feel miserable. I am sick of being sick!

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-76105978020476277942010-02-01T12:09:00.005-05:002010-04-06T19:47:42.063-04:00

While attending the Georgia Nature Photographers’ Association’s first annual Expo, held at Callaway Gardens, I received many excellent tips for improving my photography. For example, during the Saturday afternoon session, Nancy Rotenberg, one of the keynote speakers, said, in essence: When you see something that interests you, don’t just press the shutter button and move on. Work with your

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-66640660015646908252009-12-21T22:54:00.008-05:002009-12-30T19:19:54.104-05:00

Every year as I prepare to decorate our tree with ornaments that are showing their age, I consider either buying or making new ones. After all, those crafters on TV who demonstrate how to make lovely ornaments out of all kinds of materials make the process seem so simple. Yes, I tell myself, next year I will definitely do something new.But when it's time to decorate the tree the next Christmas, I

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-24360033941241572872009-11-06T09:02:00.005-05:002009-11-06T09:16:56.018-05:00

In the beginningGod createdthe heavens and the earth.Genesis 1:1, NLT

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-86226106964997125532009-11-05T06:51:00.006-05:002009-11-06T09:15:13.420-05:00

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Paths ChosenUpon learning that the path from the parking area to the beach was only ¾ of a mile, my husband and I decided we’d walk there. The path seemed easy, at first, but quickly became very steep. Plus, we had to watch our footing, due to the large tree roots that ran every which way across the path.When the sound of our labored breathing broke the silence of the forest surrounding us, I

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-45144475166234227712009-05-25T09:15:00.004-04:002009-05-25T09:32:01.509-04:00

As I read the Memorial Day Order that’s posted on an on-line encyclopedia site, the words stirred my heart. Therefore, I want to share them with you, Dear Reader, in hopes that you, too, will be more aware of the significance of Memorial Day and more committed to honor the fallen. I. The 30th day of May, 1868, is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers, or otherwise decorating the

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-19184802145358021902009-03-18T08:30:00.005-04:002009-03-18T09:02:03.941-04:00

The fig trees in the yard have begun sprouting new leaves that will soon hide nearly all the branches that are clearly seen in winter. In a few months, an abundance of figs will appear, which we will gladly share with those who want to make some delicious fig preserves. As I look at the new leaves and anticipate the harvest ahead, I recall these words found in Habakkuk 3:17-19, New Living

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-90370239023016904312009-03-16T12:47:00.004-04:002009-03-16T13:07:09.210-04:00

The lavender tulips I’d bought and placed in a glass vase had begun to look droopy and wilted. Their petals had opened up all the way and a few of them had begun to curl and turn dark, especially along the edge. Their stems had weakened and could no longer support the blooms, causing the tulips to face the floor instead of the ceiling. Seeing how they no longer looked liked tulips, I started to

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-34925572096429887122009-02-13T11:53:00.005-05:002009-02-13T12:19:29.054-05:00

When I'd had my current Bible for about a year, I noticed that the gold leaf on the edges of the pages had begun to wear off as a result of my daily habit of leafing though the pages to locate the Scripture I wanted to read. I thought, “The gold leaf has gotten onto my hands, but has the Word gotten into my heart?” I pray that it has. I long for the desire of my heart to be like that of the

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-18739314385195703812009-01-08T12:13:00.004-05:002009-01-08T12:23:35.493-05:00

After first hearing the term concept photography, I’ve tried—in vain—to find a clear definition. So, after reading the dictionary’s definition of concept and after looking at many examples of concept photography on websites, I’ve concluded that a concept photo is one that tells a story and/or illustrates an abstract idea or theme.Although almost any photograph can tell a story or make a statement

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-82027812928342066752008-11-29T12:07:00.005-05:002008-11-30T08:17:24.016-05:00

At that time the Roman emperor, Augustus, decreed that a census should be taken throughout the Roman Empire...All returned to their own towns to register for this census. And because Joseph was a descendant of King David, he had to go to Bethlehem in Judea, David's ancient home. He traveled there from the village of Nazareth in Galilee. He took with him Mary, his fiancee, who was obviously

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-30023976069002319272008-11-19T12:19:00.003-05:002008-11-19T12:27:16.649-05:00

LORD, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered and that my life is fleeing away.~David~Psalm 39:4, New Living Translation

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-78185670920426135832008-10-30T21:37:00.009-04:002008-11-06T21:06:08.733-05:00

The hot, humid summer now is past.It looks like Fall has come at last.I feel a slight nip in the airAs the cool wind blows through my hair.It’s time to pack the shorts away,Since cooler temps are here to stay.The nuts are falling down, down, down! Leaves are turning from gold to brown. Soon we’ll move the potted plants inside,Checking them first for insects trying to hide.The deck chair cushions

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-43949565470653003172008-10-23T00:14:00.002-04:002008-10-23T00:18:08.196-04:00

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-81296158201128498082008-10-17T22:44:00.007-04:002008-10-17T23:20:21.379-04:00

Note: This photo was taken a couple of years after the column was written. This image shows the hands of the potter over those of a young girl.I watched in awe as a skilled potter shaped a blob of clay into a small bowl. As the wheel spun around and around, the potter cupped her hands around the wet, supple clay she’d placed in the center of the wheel. Once the bowl began to take shape, the

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-15471106024821027242008-10-14T10:24:00.005-04:002008-10-14T11:06:38.838-04:00

I don’t know anyone who doesn’t love butterflies, but I can think of a whole lot of folks who don’t get excited about caterpillars—from whence butterflies come! Compared to caterpillars, butterflies are so colorful. And, unlike slow-crawling caterpillars, butterflies flit freely from place to place, making it hard to keep your eyes on them, especially when watching through the tiny viewfinder on

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-39572263942663190752008-10-12T19:53:00.007-04:002008-10-12T20:22:50.881-04:00

For a long time, no one dared speak as we looked at the hummingbird sitting stone still in the palm of a woman’s upturned hand. Amazingly, the bird continued to sit there, despite the click, click, click of the cameras in the hands of photographers thrilled to have such an unexpected opportunity to take close-up photos of the tiny bird.Even as we repositioned ourselves to get better shots, the

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-66405219428847165812008-10-09T07:57:00.006-04:002008-10-09T08:29:30.253-04:00

As soon as I read on http://www.betterphoto.com/ that “kindred spirits” was the theme for that month’s photography contest, I began thinking about photos I might take in order to have some that would fit the theme. In previous contests, such as "gold" and "bliss,"I submitted photos I already had on hand. But my supply of “kindred spirits” photos was woefully lacking. I did find one I’d taken of

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-18441312712209567572008-10-08T06:23:00.011-04:002008-10-09T08:30:27.153-04:00

One holiday weekend while visiting my mother, I curled up on my bed after she’d gone to sleep and opened a copy of a magazine a friend had shared with me. I found all of the articles helpful, particularly “What the Road Passes By,” written by William Neill, a professional photographer whose images have won numerous awards and been widely published and exhibited.Although my skills as a

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-1256162631875695722008-10-05T21:50:00.012-04:002008-10-09T08:31:23.281-04:00

“Poor little guy,” I whispered as I held my newborn grandson and gently rocked him. “You’ve been through so much, haven’t you?”And he had. First, he’d undergone all the usual traumas associated with being born. Then all sorts of unexpected problems arose. His white blood count began to rise, indicating an infection somewhere in his tiny body. In order to be able to administer frequent doses of

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-49316269222753819622008-10-05T21:30:00.007-04:002008-10-09T08:32:05.825-04:00

As we began the hike to Taggart Lake, the weather was perfect. Sunny. Slightly breezy. Definitely chilly, as the wind swept across snow-capped mountains in Grand Teton National Park. The level trail from the parking area soon became steeper and rockier. But that was no problem. We simply slowed our pace and stepped more carefully over the rocks. We walked across a pedestrian bridge that spanned a

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-51678150170710523262008-10-05T08:57:00.010-04:002008-10-09T08:35:51.320-04:00

Like a blush rising in a maiden’s face,Fall is arriving at her own slow pace.A hint of color here and over thereMakes me say, “Oooh!” or just sit and stare.A touch of pale red, a burst of soft gold…Aaah! Soon these colors will be rich and bold.As Fall’s blush deepens and spreads day by day,I like to linger long along my way.For all too soon Fall’s colors will be gone,Leaving trees and vines

Johnnie Ann Gaskillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07428942440547109846noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5406415060884403123.post-89116274465464740502008-10-04T23:58:00.008-04:002008-10-09T08:32:45.652-04:00

Sunset--A Time to CelebratebyJohnnie Ann Burgess GaskillSunset in the Golden Isles of GeorgiaSince I love the beauty of sunsets (and sunrises, too!), I paid particular attention to one of the scenes in a TV documentary. It was an especially lovely one, showing a few palm trees silhouetted against the Pacific Ocean, the horizon, and the darkening sky. But what the narrator said captivated my

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