At the edge of Fayetteville, pavement becomes gravel and neighborhoods become farms quickly. Just a couple of miles is enough to convince me I’m in the middle of nowhere.Today, the day after the solstice, was very gray. I headed out near Lake Wilson, an old reservoir just outside of town that mirrored the flat gray sky. I had been out there a few weeks ago for a story on a local group trying to keep clean the lake and the river flowing from it.

Today it was cold — below freezing. A few tiny flurries blew in my face. I should’ve brought a hat. Despite the cold, however, water still flowed on all sides. Creeks and streams wove under and around the road every few yards. Despite the gray, color still showed.

Here it was very quiet, the kind of quiet where you can hear an approaching car a mile out, and there were only a handful of those. As I walked a rooster called out insistently. A red-tailed hawk swooped silently over a field. The wind picked up. I really should’ve brought a hat.

After a good hour’s walk I got to my goal:

Maybe it’s not a whole lot to look at, but I’d wanted to get a photo of this basketball hoop since I first drove by a month ago. To me it seemed to hold just a little something of life here, where instead of playing basketball in front of the garage door, they play it in front of the hay bale shed. Maybe I’m too sentimental.

This boat was easily worth the trip, though. I don’t know if I’ll ever see such a thing again.

It was around this time that I turned back around and met Lisa, a woman who looked to be in her 50s and wore brass-colored glasses with small lenses and a woven, brown wool hat with a matching vest. She said hi and that she lived nearby — and that I should get a hat. I should’ve gotten her picture.

Further down the road I saw a black lab standing outside a house’s front door. As I kept walking I heard a soft padding behind me and turned around. The lab, now motionless, looked at me without a sound. I kept walking. I turned around again. Sure enough the lab was still there, sniffing where I’d walked. He followed for a few minutes before turning around and running back.

I love dogs. And I really do plan on getting more people into these pictures, I swear. I’ve put up a lot of introverted photography lately, to be blunt. Maybe I’m always tired of people by the weekend. But I hope these are OK to look at. Thanks for looking!

Dan