(pentax, film)

(canon 50D, lake alice)

When loneliness comes stalking, go into the fields, consider
the orderliness of the world. Notice
something you have never noticed before,

like the tambourine sound of the snow-cricket
whose pale green body is no longer than your thumb.

Stare hard at the hummingbird, in the summer rain,
shaking the water-sparks from its wings.

Let grief be your sister, she will whether or no.
Rise up from the stump of sorrow, and be green also,
like the diligent leaves.

A lifetime isn't long enough for the beauty of this world
and the responsibilities of your life.

Scatter your flowers over the graves, and walk away.
Be good-natured and untidy in your exuberance.

In the glare of your mind, be modest.
And beholden to what is tactile, and thrilling.

Live with the beetle, and the wind.

This is the dark bread of the poem.
This is the dark and nourishing bread of the poem.

Mary Oliver
from her poem "Flare"

in memory of mom, who took flight into new life 5 years ago this day. she was a brilliant shooting star trailing the sky that night on my lonely drive home from the hospital. there in the fog of 4am, she burned bright and lit the darkness. this, her last and best good-bye.

for the love of ransom

he's my Boob :) and he's doing quite well in spite of those growing tumors. they've yet to affect his overall health, and we feel incredibly, deeply blessed to have come into the New Year with him.
(pentax, fuji pro 400)