
the weak, winter sun
is easily imprisoned
behind bars of ice
–photo by me

the weak, winter sun
is easily imprisoned
behind bars of ice
–photo by me

the winter woodlands
coax me into the chaos
of their crystal webs
–photo by me

clearly impotent,
the blushing sun hides his face
in the trees all day
–photo by me

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

–photos by me

ghostly auroras–
long fingers of light fumbling
around in the dark
–photo by me

it’s late in the year
the river should be frozen
i’ll go with the flow
–photo by me

There’s a two or three year old juvenile eagle in a tree ahead, giving me the eagle-eye. He’s almost as big as an adult, but he doesn’t have the bald (white) head yet, and his beak is only half yellow.
If I come any closer, he’ll fly away. It’s kinda funny, cuz if he wanted to, he could sink those six-inch talons into my neck and open my skull like a can of beans with his beak.
Eagles are sea birds. They love to have fish over for dinner, and will even transport them to their nests free of charge, but after the lakes freeze over, road-kill tops the menu.
juvenile eagles
always give me a craving
for fudge swirl ice cream
–photo by me

It may look like I’m taking this picture while standing in the middle of the river, but that’s because the riverbank of solid igneous rock (which takes up more than half of the shot) just happens to resemble the rushing waters.
I often see this in nature; one thing spills over into another. Perhaps Mother Nature is getting a little careless in her old age.
boundaries get blurred
whenever mother nature
paints outside the lines
–Photo by me

lakeshore in autumn–
a slice of heavenly pie
between lake and sky
–photo by me

primeval spirits
fleeing the freezing waters
before it’s too late
–photo by me