the great blue heron fishing

                                                        in the gray mist at dusk ~

                                                        4 : 27 : 12  /  : 13  /  : 14

taking off, the art

is it so, that waterbirds*

push off the tip of their wing feathers

lift upwards on the echoes of their shadows

amid the ebb and flow of the ocean's breath

until sufficient air is gained underneath

enough to break away from earth

                                                  and gravity?

wonder how birds in the desert do it?

                                                       seems i have forgotten . . .

* double-crested cormorant and great blue heron taking off

blind shots in the fog

grace of wings

                                       O poor heart of mine, understand

                                       you can't contain the grace of wings 

                                       once spread out in the light
                                              you simply can't ~

red rose petals

                                            red rose petals in 

                                            puddles of midwinter rain 

                                            amid white pebbles - 

                                            january love 

                                            on the eve of the full moon

wolf moon

                                                               "tonight the moon kisses the stars.
                                                               O Beloved, be like that to me." ~ rumi

balance is motion forward

the great blue heron taught me the other day, that

balance is motion forward ~


                                                                                  i learned.

sunsets from a week ago

                                                   thorny archways ~

                                                   there are boulders on the ocean's bottom ~

                                                   violescent twilight ~

what keeps me coming back for more of the same kind, is

to see the Ocean burning raw at low tide, [un]covering the sand

painting in the colors of a fervent twilight, ablaze . . .  like this!

never knowing when, but certain it will happen again

                                                                                                  it always does. it always does!
                                                                                                 the one and only. my love.

# 7/8/9

among the puddles

                                                              at the water's edge

                                                              white pebbles among puddles

                                                               eyes longing for home ~ 

                                                              (horizon fading)

# 6

In [linear] perspective

It is half reality, half illusion that make up the frames of life

half reason, half passion that keep them tied in a sequence.
In black and white to dream tomorrow's past before
                                                                                                     I dare imagining ~

"Each day is an opportunity to travel back into tomorrow’s past and change it."
― Robert Brault

# 5*

quiet steps

                                                              low tide, sodden sands

                                                              in the eyes of the ocean

                                                              i trace my coy steps

                                                              (quiet, both searching)

# 5

brea[d]th of wings

                                          on the brea[d]th of wings

                                          she parted with her shadow 

                                          vanished in the fog ~

fog [e]scape

my mind slid the elusive fog [e]scape ~

clusters of shimmering crystals

angel's wings

                                                            "love is how you earn your wings." - Karen Goldman

quantum vortex

behind the fence

“what breaks in daybreak? is it the night? is it the sun, cracked in two by the horizon
like an egg, spilling out light?”~ margaret atwood

blackberry frost[ing] on a [sun]day morning ~

what a [de]light!

burning water, burning ice at sunrise

grass[hoppers] at dawn

subconsciously true

                                                                        sometimes
i think that it is the i in me ~ 

my disposition, my thoughts, my feelings

that evoke (acquire, if it suits you better) 

the images the camera sees, and

                                                                                not my eye [i].

then i scribble about it. in simple words 

ask the entire universe for more. of the kind.

relinquish the core of my being to be delineated 

thousands of miles away, turned inside out
beneath the layers of an unknown nebula

fingers molding the void, pressing the space

to the formless shape of my blood and bones.

pure. raw real. subconsciously true.

honest. to self only. (sometimes)
and vaguely obscure, evanescent
always morphing to retain wholeness

i fragment to grains of sand between
the stones of gravity to be i. slip in the gaps.
breathe the ocean unobstructed. full lungs.

as air dies off in the sudden gusts of wind

i cannot see, but distinguish against my skin

an inter-galactic polarity drawing me near.

lately i almost come to believe it.
                                                                    almost.


kind of self-fulfilling prophecy, right?

"woman, with her very dissimilar psychology, is and always has been a source of information 
about things for which a man has no eyes." ~ C.G.Jung, Aspects of the Feminine

post # 800

off timing

lately i have been incapable to time my walks within the hour of sundown. 

i am either too early, i cannot endure the cold winds standing still and waiting, 

or i am late to be in the right place for an unobstructed view of the spectacle. 

but due to my off timing, last night i saw the sunset from a new vantage.

(after thousands of photographs taken at the same location) 

                                            it is how life works, isn't it?

# 4

new year's fortune

since the parchment fortune i drew 

from the traditional new year's feta-pastry 

                                                                            reads

expect a house by the sea

generous with you 

the new year will be 
believe it -

goodies coming your way!

i was just trying to be a tad more specific.
                                                                                     i smile . . . 

gray sky - haiga

#  3*