Weekend Sky

May 15, 2022.Reading time less than 1 minute.

Okay, it’s not this weekend; it’s an April sky. Weekend Sky

The Reclusive Writer

April 11, 2022.Reading time 2 minutes.

Should you choose to visit, you’ll be received with old-fashioned charm – ours is a simple cottage: furniture well-worn, muted hues to warm you, and a kettle always brewing. Clutter attests to our relaxed lifestyle, welcoming you to kick back and relax. Weather permitting, we’ll sit out back, surrounded by a forest of mature trees […]

Curves

March 25, 2022.Reading time less than 1 minute.

In nature and art, curves are eye-catchers: For Lens-artists Photo Challenge: curves.

On Solitude

March 21, 2022.Reading time less than 1 minute.

My photos, someone else’s quotations. For Cee’s Black & White Photo challenge: photos and quotes.

Just One (of each)

March 6, 2022.Reading time less than 1 minute.

One flower, one fawn, for Cee’s Black & White challenge: Just one of anything.

Last Shot At February

March 4, 2022.Reading time less than 1 minute.

Bushboy’s Last on the Card challenge: February 2022

Morning Streaks

February 20, 2022.Reading time less than 1 minute.

Weekend Sky

Skies Ablush

February 13, 2022.Reading time less than 1 minute.

Weekend Sky

Making space for introspection

February 2, 2022.Reading time 1 minute.

Culling through old journals, and blog posts has me feeling introspective. Pausing and processing. I feel change tugging at my edges. Time to rethink the purpose of this blog. The camera has been tucked away until warmer weather and better health permits more exploring. In the meantime, I’m studying the art of drawing and playing […]

That’s Cold!

January 31, 2022.Reading time less than 1 minute.

(For Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: cold)

Human Toll

Talks stalledescapees strugglelives minimizedburdens heavydespair palpable Can they sensethe global hug,compassion circling? Do prayers have substance,or have the displacednever felt so alone? (Image mine)

Wasn’t Meant to Be

Love evolves –a considerationwe overlookedthose day whenpassion drove usto fanciful displays Tried to align myselfto the certaintyof your dreamsbut my compasswas set elsewhere Memory, thoughhas tattooed uson my heart;the ink still bleeds. (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image mine.)

Cryptic

Is the writing on the wall so cryptic?Graphic images depict rageflames of dissonanceyoung men bleeding at their own handscompassion incapacitated. A sad awakening for a society fixatedon rights and privileges, dominating culture excluding the nurtureof humanity, or preservation of life. How can we continue to closet our children’s pain – their vitality oozing – hopelessly […]