The edges of gardens. I swear by them…

I'd hoped to help Glo put up her last couple cords of firewood, and I did, but throwing firewood is an inexact science ...

I was the one with bad knees, not really first tier for expedition hiking…

I worked my day shift at the top of the valley, where the two dirt roads converge. Monarch Hill and Spring roads in Tunbridge, a neighborhood so full of character; I won't easily let it go…

One of my very best friends and I do not agree on current events…

It was worth it just to see it, hear stories about it, and touch the water…

Looking down, it was clearly too steep to scramble…

A bunch of sticks caught up on rocks, it's a lot of what you see when you're looking…

The clouds push in, the trees are in constant motion…

Nothing much happened, it's what didn't happen that I appreciate…

You go there to jump off the cliffs…

It's hard to believe that anything we knew about our life as it was, still is…

It's almost funny, to keep encountering obstacles like relentless ocean waves…

We all have secret swimming holes. Or, if we don't, we expect to find them in the future…

In a borrowed car, making scarce while the realtor showed my house, I impulsively took Bobbin Shop Road, to revisit a few memories…

And in the hot sun, many flower bombs reveal their colors up top…

Sometimes the most awkward words are actually prayers…

Little bird who knocks against the glass, I'm happy to not be what you're looking for, as you aim your passion towards an imagined other…

When I get back home after a job, I turn off the car & swing my body to the left so that my feet touch the ground…

I'm not entirely sure this wild growth is normal, all bound up as it is with a late snow, followed by an oppressive heat wave…