
Layered on concrete
Vibrant colors bring to life
A face from this brush
poetry, prose, and photography

Layered on concrete
Vibrant colors bring to life
A face from this brush

Glorious springtime
With these petals bursting forth
Before the rains come

Walking down this trail
Raindrops passing through the trees
Seattle’s springtime

The water’s stillness
With the sun moving westward
Spring’s daylight now ends
I live about 30 miles north of Seattle. I adore walking along the Edmonds waterfront. Many of my shots posted here are from this small city. My history here goes back a few generations. Simply walking here brings forth memories of cousins, grandparents.

Spring is clearly here
Daffodils precede tulips
I walk in the rain

Seattle’s winter taught me something new: deserts hate me. In the deepest cold of February, as the upper left coast shivered in a frigid, deeply embrace, my skin burned. Cracking, peeling, bleeding, the lack of moisture in the air brutalized me. Far more painful that I remember.
Over the years I dreamt of journeys through the Southwest. Wandering the desert canyons, a soundtrack featuring R. Carlos Nakai, perhaps tied to a writer’s retreat, I explore the zen within the arid land. Tranquility filling my soul.
Now I fear my skin crumbling off my bones. Needing to bathe in moisturizer. Not the most pleasant imagery.
Perhaps my mind exaggerates. It often plays such tricks on me. The dream still lingers. No harm, I guess, in holding that. Maybe the tranquility compensates for the damaged skin.
Such randomness within in my mind.
Unfamiliar with R. Carlos Nakai’s music? His native flute music carries me deep within, speaking to my depths.

These cherry blossoms
Thousands of people descend
Seattle’s springtime

Walking in sunshine
Just below these powerlines
Life in the suburbs