After taking my GFT test I told you I was looking forward to posting more. And I am. I just haven't had the time or energy to do so.
Last month I photographed a beautiful wedding in Pennsylvania for my best friend's sister. It was a short four hour drive with beautifully crafted God-breathed scenery. Beauty, as the understatement here. I described it to some as a "drive through the Chronicles of Narnia" movie.
Snow covered mountains and hills, fir trees dusted in powdery white, and abandoned shacks and shops on the sides of roads are a few things I saw.
If you know me, I love whimsical and dreamy things, so driving through mountainous PA was a bit of a treat.
I literally did not think that this wedding was going to be in the mountains. The last time I was in the mountains was when I went to Boone, NC to visit a friend from college and drove up the windiest road up a stretch of a literal mountain where her house was nestled in the woods, overlooking lustrous peaks. No, I pictured a rural area with hustle and bustle and normal looking homes. But what I found was space galore, endless trees, and an eeriness that melted my soul.
The events of that weekend were fun and gallivanting to and from location while dabbling in sprinkles of Pennsylvania redneck amidst the journey made things all the more enjoyable.
I will share some pics of the actual wedding here later, or on Facebook. You'll catch me somewhere.
In the mean time, on my way home that weekend, I stopped at one teeny tiny antique shop (among the many there were out there) on the side of the road (pic below), and more significantly, the "United, Flight 93 Memorial." I could not believe my eyes when the memorial site was literally just a right turn away. Could it be?
Of all the vast and wide roads in PA to travel on this landmark happened to fall upon Lincoln Highway, the road I'd spent most of the trip travelling down.
I HAD to stop. And I did. And here are my pics to prove it.
I did NOT however, have time to walk down the path to see the actual, physical, site where the plane crashed (bummer, though in hindsight probably had enough time), but I was at the field and read the memorial signs, and soaked up the surroundings, which likely suffered impact from the actual grounds just yards away.
Breathtaking is the only word that comes to mind, though that doesn't even come close to describing it.
