Post by: Rebecca Burch
Town: Spencer
Website: Carpe You Some Diem!

I know it’s really spring when Charleston’s cherry blossoms start to open up. These fragile flowers bloom only for a week or so before the delicate petals fall from the sky like the snow we were only recently wishing to never see again. It’s easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of everyday life and forget to stop and look for these trees to bloom each year.

Cherry Blossoms

There are a few cherry trees in Charleston, including one huge, gorgeous, weeping cherry tree at First Presbyterian Church, next door to the school where I work. As soon as February’s out of the way, I start watching that tree for little buds to start popping up and turning green. Sometimes, I think that watching for those little green signs of hope does so much to get me through the end of winter. Just when it seems like the cold, grey days will never end, the buds appear and my mental focus turns to springtime.

Weeping Cherry

Once the cherry trees bloom, I know that other flowers will follow suit. My apple tree in the back yard isn’t far behind, and then azaleas and rhododendrons, redbud trees and snowball bushes. My dreary commute is rocked by the bright pinks and purples and yellow-green saplings of springtime, and the world seems to come alive again.

Post by: Rebecca Burch
Town: Spencer
Website: Carpe You Some Diem!

This is going to sound really odd coming from a middle-aged art teacher and mother of four, probably, but I’m going to post this, anyway.

I love the sound of a hotrod engine.

I know, I know… these cars are gas hogs, unnecessary driving is bad for the environment, and they’re a nuisance driving through your neighborhood … I know. But to me, the sound of a really well-tuned muscle car is a beautiful thing.

My husband, Mike, bought a 1966 Ford Mustang as a kid — yes, before he was old enough to drive it — with money earned from working in his father’s movie theater . Since then, he’s been building and tweaking to get every last little bit of horsepower out of the thing, and now the little red Mustang is a force to be reckoned with. The sound it makes is amazing — when it idles, it has this low growl, and then as it gets ready to take off, it literally roars like some sort of mechanical dragon! It’s not the whine of a modern sportscar; it’s the sound of pure power. You can’t NOT love it. Don’t even ask me engine specs and details — I have no clue. I just love the sound it makes when it’s ready to go, and I know how much work has gone into this thing. SO many hours of tweaking and grinding and doing the math and reworking systems have gone into getting even the most minute time gain at the track.

Well, okay … there are times when I would appreciate a “mute” button on the old ‘Stang … especially when I’ve just put the baby down for a nap and the guys are all working on their cars in the driveway. And after a day at the racetrack, I do welcome the silence of the ride home. This noise does have a downside. As much as I love it, there are times that the noise can be too much. But I’ll take it. I am looking forward to the racing season that is just starting up, and I know we’ll have fun at the track this year. The weather is warm and the hotrodders are already starting to congregate at my house to compare progress made during the cold months and plan trips to the track. The kids are chomping at the bit to go see Daddy race again. And I’m looking forward to spending some time outdoors with my family watching the culmination of all the work my husband and his friends have put into these machines of pure strength and beauty. Putnam County, here we come!

Link to Kanawha Valley Motorsports Park.

WV Hotrod

Post By: Rebecca Burch
Town: Spencer
Website: Carpe You Some Diem

Every year, as the heat of the summer begins to fade and the leaves just barely start changing their color, my thoughts turn to festivals — the Black Walnut Festival, the Pumpkin Festival, Bridge Day, and countless others. My favorite is the Black Walnut Festival, in my hometown of Spencer, WV. RVs and cars line the streets for about a week before the festival, and all the traffic is a nightmare in our tiny town, but I don’t care. I live within walking distance (straight uphill to get home, but walking distance, nonetheless) to downtown, so I can go without a car for a weekend.

I love festivals because they are a celebration of each area’s personal flavor. Though the rides, the craft booths, the parades, the food stands, and the activities are roughly the same at each festival, they are all drastically different because of the people who make it happen. The real gold is in the local performers. Come to the Black Walnut Festival, and you’re likely to hear Jake Krack, a fiddler whose skill was beyond most adults’, even before he was old enough to speak into the microphone (and has only gotten better since)! Visit the art exhibits and you’ll find some amazing pieces by local artists Margaret and Peter Arabia. See the local talent at the rest of the festivals, and you’ll be amazed at how diverse our talents are as West Virginians, and how our rich heritage has colored even the youngest of our artists and performers — not to mention our craftspeople, farmers, and other talented folks whose handiwork gets the spotlight during festival time.

I love the exhibits, but I can’t think about festivals without thinking about carnival rides. I used to dream of carnival time year-round as a kid, and I just couldn’t wait to climb into one of these machines. And though I’ve never been trapped on one, injured, or experienced anything bad on one, for some reason I have developped this fear of carnival rides. I can stomach the craziest rollercoaster you can show me, but put me on the Spider or the Zipper, and you’re in for a fight. I can remember being consoled by my then-four-year-old eldest son on a ride called the “Blackjack” — he was patting my knee with his tiny hand and saying, “Mommy, you’re going to be fine. I’ll make sure you don’t fall out.” Of course, I have never lived this down. No matter how many scrambler rides I complete, I will always be the World’s Biggest Chicken for experiencing sheer terror on a ride
that my four-year-old found no problem with.

As much fear as I have toward riding these rides, I love to stand in the middle of all of them and watch my kids play. The best time is when the sun is just beginning to set and the carnival lights start to turn on. These machines are really works of art, with their old-fashioned paint jobs and intricate lighting designs. Of course, I love photographing them, too, and the more I learn about photographing lighted, moving objects in varying amounts of atmospheric light, the more I enjoy the challenge of getting just the right shot.

Black Walnut Festival Ride

Holy crap! I just found out that the submit@picturewestvirginia.com email address wasn’t forwarding right and I missed a few posts! Sorry, guys — poorly done. So this week, in addition to the ‘Structures’ theme, I’m going to catch up on the posts from Weeks 1 and 2 that I missed. I’ve got it all sorted now, so it won’t happen again.

Post by: MoneyTastesBad
Town: Morgantown
Website: The 30-Year-Old Freshman

Last summer, my wife, daughter and I went on vacation to Cape Cod and Maine. We saw some beautiful sites. Nantucket Island, the sunset at Race Point which is the very end of the Cape. We walked on the National seashore. Bar Harbor and the rocky coasts and light houses of Maine, Acadia National Park, Cadillac Mountain. But nothing was as beautiful as the vision of heaven we saw when we came back home. These pictures were taken from the car on I-68 shortly after crossing into WV. Although we were in Preston County, I consider that to be part of the Greater Morgantown Metropolitan Area. And I consider Morgantown my home town.

Janis Bland, a Buckhannon blogger originally from Weston, has published her “My Town” post at her blog, Juanuchis’ Way. It’s a 19-photo tour of Weston that shows some of the amazing architecture the town has to offer, including, of course, the famous Weston State Hospital. Be sure to stop by and check it out!

Post By: Matt Ware
Town: Kingwood

I was raised in Kingwood, which is about 45 minutes south of Morgantown. Aside from having the state’s second largest festival (the Buckwheat Festival) behind the State Fair, there’s not much going on in Kingwood.

Luckily I had very adventurous and motivated grandparents and parents. I remember from a very young age going on long trips in the summer with my grandparents, camping at the many beautiful spots in the Mountain State and beyond. Coming from such a small, slow town, this travel gave me a constant itch to keep moving. More and more my “hometown” became a home base where I would rest between destinations. Here’s a handful of photos of some of the locations I used to frequent as a kid on jaunts from my home base.

Post By: Rebecca Burch
Town: Spencer
Website: Carpe You Some Diem

I feel sort of schizophrenic, because I am very much at home in both Charleston and Spencer WV, which are like two totally different worlds. I grew up in Belle, near Charleston, so I spent a lot of time in downtown Charleston as a kid. Now I work there but live in Spencer, which is very rural and kind of isolated. So I’m submitting two photos, if that’s OK — one of each of my “towns.”

The first one is “Livestock Market, Spencer WV.” I took this photo during a beautiful golden sunset while checking out this old livestock market. I think it’s still in use, although it has sort of an eerie “abandoned building” feel when it’s empty… which seems to be most of the year

Livestock Market: Spencer, WV

At the Foot of the Bridge

Check out more of Rebecca’s posts at Carpe You Some Diem.