Monday, April 15, 2013
Monday, March 87, 2013. We stand tall, we stand here, we are here. What carver dreamed about these, and gave each of them their unique countenance? They stand on sacred ground. They stand at the Place of Refuge. I wonder if they are here to warn me from seeking refuge or to warn others from violating the refuge they provide.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Monday, January 21, 2013. Early morning in the park, the half moon of the reservoir pointing to the brilliant red of dawn. Everything was circular for me, the water, the tree line, the duck's wake, the coming sun.
Monday, February 25, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Sunday, January 6, 2013. What random act of man and nature created this scene of a bird of prey against a winter sky, flying high over the mountains? Walking, walking, walking, I turn my head to the earth, not skyward, and I pass this image by, but I returned to it. What a perfect reflection of what I did see that day, as red-tailed hawks soared over the park on a hunt or maybe just a territory review. Would some Department of Transportation road painter be pleased that this was the result of her work? This pebbly bubble of white, rough-edged for the mountains and textured snowy white for the sky, might not be what she had in mind.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Sunday, December 22, 2012. I was getting ready to leave on a holiday trip. Glass, twinkling in the early morning light, caught the sunlight and sparkled in the early cold. I love the tiny shapes that shattered auto windows make, the green blue of the pieces strewn on the ground. I would like a box of them that I could take out to look at whenever I wanted to.