Stand here Honey, look out through that window across the room, out the front door, and just take a breath or two.
White paint that sunk it's way into the wood about a century ago, still shows its addition to the house, and kept the outside looking clean for all those years .
Just to the left of the opening into time, is the room where life was alive, where we took the vow that would keep us together, where grandma baked and made such righteously great desserts. Think about grandpa outside on the blue chair, towards the mountains, pulling on that roll-your-own, where the smoke surrounded his head.
Remember that little pony we had tied to the fence, that kept untying himself and wandering three feet to the left, to that patch of grass that was so pretty.
The days when that view turned white, and the heat from the wood stove wood keep the room dry, but leave the far outside walls heavy with ice.
This back window that met its match when the boy tossed a rock and hit it just right and it all came shattering to the floor. The days of sunshine, rain, goodness and sadness filled our lives here.
Look through here Honey; our lives were lived within this view.
Ralph Peck
Photography by Chris Hall
Shade of the American West pouring down on Oklahoma
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