
the clouds are ablaze
and will soon turn to ashes
in the pale moonlight

–photos by me

the clouds are ablaze
and will soon turn to ashes
in the pale moonlight

–photos by me

When my son and I went down to the lake for some early-morning photography, we couldn’t believe our eyes: there, in the dawn’s early light, it appeared as though some great sea monsters had emerged from the deep in the night. All up and down the shoreline, these scaly leviathans were silhouetted against the saffron sky. It reminded me of a pod of beached whales.
The daylight revealed something almost as strange: the monsters had become huge piles of ice, which form (I later learned) when broken-up ice is driven by high winds to the shoreline; it’s a naturally occurring phenomenon called ice-stacking. So much for sea monsters.
in the dark, we can
only imagine monsters–
at dawn, we see them

–photos by me




–photos by me

With Christmas bearing down on us, I must confess that there’s a part of it I hate. Sure, the gift-giving and spiritual side of it is wonderful, but the hyped up in-your-face commercialism is worrisome. Are we teaching our children that happiness is about having “things”? Take it from a guy who knows a thing or two about having it all, Jim Carrey:
“I wish that everyone would find success,
become rich and famous, and acquire
everything they’ve ever wanted–
so they could finally realize that it
wasn’t what they were looking for.”
–AI generated image (had to try it)

it had snowed
once in november,
yet all that
snow would go,
and now here in december–
our second first snow!

–photos by me

the great mystery
of the cosmos was revealed
to me in a dream–
it’s gone now, but i recall
that i couldn’t stop laughing
–photo by me
one of the letters on
my laptop quit working,
and it’s driving me crazy;
i can’t even tell you which–
wait, i think i just did!

they say that the canada jays
are true to canadian ways:
they have fluffy feathers
for very cold weather
and nest in the coldest of days
–photo by me




–photos by me

a top predator,
he’s at the top of his game
in the top of a tree–
yet ‘the top’ is not for all;
i hear that it’s lonely there
–photo by me