Tim Jon
By Tim Jon My Walk in Waterford: The Movie; imagine taking an early-morning stroll around an historic village, on a beautifully refreshing day, and you’ve got the whole place to yourself. This was my experience in a nutshell the last time I visited the quiet little community nestled in the heart of north central Loudoun…
By Tim Jon My memory mostly consists of an immersion in green. The lands lying between the paved (or mown) surfaces and the Potomac River in northeast Leesburg strike me—during the growing season, anyway—as a riot of growth and fertility. I’ve traipsed many of the trails under the jurisdictions of Balls Bluff Regional Park and—a…
By Tim Jon One of my fondest possessions is an old black and white photograph, showing an ecstatic little boy—probably around six or seven years of age, with a baby deer in his arms. You see, as a child, I was absolutely insatiable when it came to animals: birds, beasts, insects, fish, reptiles and amphibians—even…
By Tim Jon I had made the decision in all innocence: “It’ll be kinda fun to drive this stretch on a misty, foggy morning.” Right. In the 10 years or more that had passed since I’d been on top of ‘the Mountain’ under these conditions, I had blissfully forgotten just how limited the visibility could…
By Tim Jon Funny how despite the fragility of life it seems that Nature can often abide in very close proximity to mankind and our so-called civilization. We see the reverse of this pattern as well with flora and fauna wilting before our progress, so I’m always heartened when I observe any vital signs of…
By Tim Jon Not to start a story off with a double negative, but my advice is: don’t enter a graveyard if you don’t want to bring home some of the ghosts. Now, while I hesitate to believe I have free-ranging spirits floating around in my house, I will say that I’ve felt a bit…
By Tim Jon I don’t remember making it down to the water that morning—or the way back, up onto solid ground, either; in looking at my camera shots from this adventure, I must have, somehow half-walked, half-slid from the bluffs above the River—descending all the way into the muck and mire—and, at the time of…
By Tim Jon I kept telling myself that if I didn’t slip and break my neck on the rocky slope, and if I didn’t slide all the way out into the moving water, and if I didn’t run into an early-rising copperhead snake along the descent, I’d most likely be okay. That’s what I kept…
By Tim Jon As far as I can tell, I’ve located at least one place in this ever-busier County where the ‘rat race’ doesn’t exist—at any rate, I failed to spot any signs of the phenomenon. Now, there are plenty of spots in our locality where you can bank on a fair share of peace,…
By Tim Jon After decades of unexpected upheavals in my life, I’ve actually come to appreciate the surprising travails that keep popping up as long as I’ve been above ground; many times, my little forays into our natural world serve as a microcosm of these larger dips and peaks. My first reaction on pulling into…