Like beginnings, the endings
Do not come at home
The journey is finished
When we no longer roam
There’s a point when we look back
To recall what was seen
And a little remorse
For what might have been
Category: Canon 5D Mark II
Black Frank
Black Frank was the Lord of Nanaimo
And Admiral’d the fleet that made tubs go
When they mounted an engine
“Well,” Frank said, “let’s go racin’!”
Across Georgia Strait, what a great show!
And Admiral’d the fleet that made tubs go
When they mounted an engine
“Well,” Frank said, “let’s go racin’!”
Across Georgia Strait, what a great show!
Reef Point
The best journeys, it seems to me, are the unplanned ones, taken on the spur of the moment, reliant on the benifecence of serendipity. I understand why not everyone who travels would agree with this. For serendipity to work, one must believe in it. Listen for its song. Follow its voice when it calls. One cannot do this if plans are laid down like concrete foundations. Planning must be fluid, flow like a rivulet on a sandy beach, as easily diverted as the whim of a child with a stick.
An Artistic Encounter With Nature
“Let me paint for you,” she said.
“Ummm, yeah. Yeah!” I stammered as what she was suggesting sank in with increasing gravity.
“Yeah! That would be awesome!”
Tranquility Bay
Tranquility Bay, here.
The Eagle has landed.
The Eagle has landed.
My city fair
There’s a city down to the right
Shrouded in the grey
Below the mountains on the left
Beyond the sea of light
Shrouded in the grey
Below the mountains on the left
Beyond the sea of light
It’s a city fair
A city rare
Which once was quite contrite
Departing for Departure Bay
Propellers churn the ocean green
Stern will soon be bow
When the shrill ship’s whistle sounds
The journey will begin
Stern will soon be bow
When the shrill ship’s whistle sounds
The journey will begin
A journey starts not with packed bags
Walking out the door
But once you are well underway
And begin to settle in
The little tornado that couldn’t
They tracked the little tornado as it began forming. It was on a steady Northeasterly bearing, trailing the massive storm cell which had already wreaked so much havoc on Fayette county. Storm chasers were reporting the formation of a funnel at this location, but that it hadn’t touched down yet.
Sometimes, these conditions could lead to a very powerful twister. Everyone was hoping it would be the little tornado that couldn’t.
On time as a healer of precious love
When I look back at that breakup
That first one
The one that was almost
But not quite
I feel the cut again
That first one
The one that was almost
But not quite
I feel the cut again
Like paper
Cutting flesh
Grey is Fine for Me
Some prefer the sunshine
The beauty of blue skies
I prefer the subtle
Of atmospheric sighs
The beauty of blue skies
I prefer the subtle
Of atmospheric sighs
Pix to Words 