Iowa Apple Orchard © Alyice Edrich, 2010

It’s echo time! This time the prompt is “Market”. I looked high and low for an inspirational quote to go with this challenge, but all I could find were stock market obsessions. So, like Chrysti, I settled on Mother Goose’s rhyme.

When I think of the word “market”, I think of the grocery store of my childhood.

Just two and a half blocks from my home was the cutest store you could ever imagine—Farmers’ Market. Yes, that was the store’s real name.

It was a beautiful red store. It reminded me of a bright, shiny barn. When you walked into the store you were immediately greeted by a real butcher on the right and cash registers to the left. There was fresh produce directly behind the cash registers, a refrigeration area to the right of the produce and along the back wall, and shelves and shelves of prepackaged goods. There was even sawdust on the floor.

A Bountiful Treat © Alyice Edrich, 2010

The owners and their staff were kind and friendly people. They owned the store long before the projects ever existed. They owned the store when the projects weren’t the projects—when they were military housing. They prided themselves on offering the freshest of ingredients and even gave store credit the old fashioned way; with an accounting ledger and someone’s good word.

For some reason, the chaos of the projects never touched that store—at least not that I can recollect. Oh sure, kids were caught stealing candy from time to time but nothing major.

Then one day, after dating the man of my dreams for a few months, I decided to show him where I grew up. I wanted him to know why certain fears existed and where a certain inner-strength came from. And I wanted to show him “my store”.

Sadly, it was no longer there.

A Family Bonding Experience © Alyice Edrich, 2010

Though the memories of that store and the people in it have faded over the years, that feeling of warmth and nostalgia remains.

That’s why when my husband and I discovered an Apple Orchard in Iowa that ran a tiny family store, and a Pumpkin Patch in South Dakota that sold farm grown produce, I couldn’t help but jump for joy.

Seriously folks, there is just something wonderfully uplifting and exciting about these little markets. The folks who run them are some of the nicest and friendliest people you’ll ever meet. They truly understand what “the fruits of your labor” means and they want you to experience what it is like to eat something that has ripened in the land, not on a transport truck.

No matter where my husband and I vacation, or what our itinerary is, if we happen upon a Farmer’s Market, we make it a point to stop, shop, and mingle.

Until next time…

It’s echo time! This time the prompt is “Fauna”. When I read the word “fauna” I had absolutely no idea what it meant so I had to look it up. In case you were as clueless as me, fauna means a collective group of species that live in a certain region and/or time.

Calf © Alyice Edrich, 2010

This little guy surely fits that definition.

He and his kin can be found throughout the state of South Dakota as cattle ranches and crop farms make up most of the state.

When I first moved to South Dakota, I was in awe of all the open space, all the farms, all the livestock. It simply bewildered my mind to see so much wide open space; space that hadn’t been touched by industrial parks or smog-filled cities, space that wasn’t overcrowded with foliage and trees and stuff.

Cattle & The Land © Alyice Edrich, 2010

It was in some small way, healing to my soul.

For the first two years, I made my husband take me up dirt roads just to get a glimpse of the livestock or to bask in the beauty of the land.

For just a few minutes a day, I felt as though all the pains of the past were being washed away, as though new life was being breathed into my very soul, and I was thankful.

Thankful to God for carrying us through every one of life’s storms. Thankful to be blessed with wonderful children. Thankful to be married to my best friend, a man who put up with my quirkiness and flaws and never held them against me. Thankful for the opportunity to be there in that very moment.

Though I find myself itching to move back to the big city, or to at least live on its shirttails, I can honestly say that I am glad we were here to experience those first two years. And glad that my children have been blessed with the opportunity to grow up in a slower paced environment in which they felt safe and connected—to the land, to the people, to family.

Until next time…

It’s echo time! This time the prompt is “abstract”. Abstract is the distortion of reality. It’s about viewing what is and then using colors and shapes and texture to evoke an emotional response—whether it be from the viewer or the artist himself—about that reality.

Nature’s Abstract © Alyice Edrich, 2010

Abstract art can be found everywhere. It’s in nature, like the wings of a butterfly or the way light reflects off of a fixed surface. It’s in manmade objects, like the close-up viewings of larger objects or the sectioning off of patterns.

Patterned Abstract © Alyice Edrich, 2010

And it’s in the unconscious mind of an artist seeking to find a voice—yearning to be heard, longing to resolve a painful issue, wishing to capture the feelings of pure and utter joy.

My Abstract Life © Alyice Edrich, 2010

When I look at abstract art, I am captivated by its ability to reach deep within my soul and calm the chaos within.

I am fascinated by the fact that one piece of abstract art can have so many different meanings to so many different people—all because the viewer has different life experiences.

And I am mystified to discover that I am able to see several images, within the painting itself, that were never meant to be there. It’s as though the painting itself is speaking to me; calling me to learn from it, to explore it, to reflect upon it, to discover new meanings and truths.

Not all abstract art has this effect on me, mind you. Some abstract art does absolutely nothing for me or my soul. It’s simply something pleasing to gaze upon.

Henry Ward Beecher once said, “Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.” Nothing could be truer than that of an artist who creates abstract art.

Until next time…