Fiddle head ferns, stragglers for mid-April.
In the right light even the ubiquitous dandelion can be beautiful.
A shining beacon among the leaves and spring greens.
Life begins anew on this fallen dead tree.
Yellows and greens, like champagne bubbles drifting on the wind.
Resembling a straw hat, a few mushrooms made their appearances.
Then off from McCormick's Creek State Park and on to Clay County.
Now privately owned, this is the original Call County poor farm. Built in 1911 it was a stop of last resorts for families back in the day.
The old fire slide.
Outside the building. Meats spelled backward is STAEM.
Just inside the building, now being used for storage of various items.
What scared me was I swear I could see those toes lifting off the table top.
As darkness surrounded the abandoned building the only light in the tiny bedroom was from the outside moon. The forgotten bear stared out the window, as he does every night.
Almost every corridor was an adventure.
Downstairs was sobering. This was the area where cells occasionally held those suffering from dementia or other mental problems.
An early lounger? Industrial grade!
Notice the small window where a patient would interact with administrators.
Bars in the poor farm. Cells to take the place of mental wards and hospitals at one time.