Ebb tide...

Fairychimes

Beerhive Pub

Promise

We cancelled cable three days ago.

Sometimes there's nothing you can do.

The earth has a memory.

Laramidia

Rain in the desert is a thief.

'Home' is becoming a place and shape in my mind.

Waiting for mole.

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.

I don't want to wake up.

Winter colors

Fishbowl effect

Our revels now are ended.

Freezing fog

Living in community.

My heart can't hold all this wonder.

Seven-color rainbow

Small neuroses.

The perfect storm.

Puck

The mountains called to each other, rumbling and growling with thunder.

A letter home, the old fashioned way.

She's struggled out from under the suffocating clouds of smoke, and burns fiercely in her anger and triumph.

Ash fell from the sky today. I thought of Pompeii, but it's a wildfire beyond the Oquirrh ridge.

The sun wears a veil of smoke. She looks tired today, and sad.

Rain hangs in ribbons, never touching the ground. Dust swirls to meet the wet strands. Thunder cracks.

Some moments make your chest swell and your throat ache with faint echoes of someplace you used to know.

Sometimes it's nice to just watch the ducks being ducks and not talk and listen to the wind.

Lacey foam. A bagpipe. My love. A full bar. The trax rumble by. We pitch our voices to be heard over the clamber.

Ages ago, this valley was covered by Lake Bonneville. The lake still tosses old bones onshore. We can't forget it.

I wonder what the cloud can see, looking down on the mountain's heads.