
our souls are like barns–
the more weathered they become,
the more beautiful
–photo by me

our souls are like barns–
the more weathered they become,
the more beautiful
–photo by me

the deer has his head held down low
so i’m wondering, a buck or a doe?
well, as i draw near,
it’s becoming quite clear–
he’s a buck, and he wants all to know
–photo by me




–photos by me

half dog, half cat
with a smidgen of rat
he’s hard to find
and photograph
we list his crimes
in nursery rhymes
from sour grapes
to fox in sox
he makes us laugh–
that sly ol’ fox
I’m reminded of that riddle of the goose, the fox, and the corn, and in case you haven’t heard it, it goes like this: a farmer has to get a goose, a fox, and a sack of corn across a river, but his boat is so small, he can only transport one at a time. Without leaving the fox alone with the goose, or the goose alone with the corn, how does he do it?
–photo by me

what do you do when you’re out for some air,
and suddenly you’re face to face with a bear?
please do not flee
he’s faster than you
do not climb a tree
he’s a good climber too
and do not play dead
or it may become true
despite what you read
there’s nothing to do
but send up a prayer, and give up those plans;
when facing a bear, it’s out of your hands.
–photo by me

The great white limousine
Rolled down the road to Destiny,
And in it sat four revered men
Of great authority.
Religion and Tradition graced
The seat that faced the rear,
While in the back with Science
Sat Philosophy so near.
Now when the road became so
Rough that forward progress slowed,
Philosophy said, “Gentlemen,
Let’s try another road.”
“I think he’s right,” said Science,
Shuffling papers on his lap,
“I’ve been collecting data,
And I’ve made a little map.”
Religion would not hear of it,
“‘Tis blasphemy!” said he,
“For God himself has set us on
This road to Destiny.”
“Religion’s right,” Tradition chimed,
“It’s been agreed upon.”
And as they argued endlessly,
The limousine rolled on.
And in the end, their driver,
Who was named Necessity,
Would find that he would have to
Choose the road to Destiny.
–Photo by me

when birds cross the road
we are always so quick to
question their motives
–photo by me

i’ll admit
it’s rather scary
when clouds in
life amass,
but storms are necessary–
and they always pass
–photo by me

in soft morning light
the deer’s sleek summer coat looks
more like a t-shirt
–photo by me




–photos by me