Tag: winter
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Recent Views
More photography here and on my Instagram. A sunbeamed leaf as seen through our car windshield: The yin and yang of a backyard bonfire remnant: At work in his corner office: Cloudy with a chance of a refill: The bubbles are back, and they’re multiplying: Mr. 3 Year Old is eager to shovel at the…
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Recent Views
More photography here and on my Instagram. Shoutout to this Ameritech relic on a power box: Little Mr. Autumn Man: That golden hour light: Same garage, different day and view: More golden hour light and shadows: Morning breaking in the backyard:
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Recent Views
More photography here and on my Instagram. This picture barely captures how cool the evening light was through these clouds at my local strip mall: Remnants of winter: Black Play-Doh + white Play-Doh = accidentally awesome marbled design: “Aphyllous trees beneath cirrocumulus clouds” sounds like a line from “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” but…
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A mind for winter
As above… …snow below: Before the recent heat wave started melting the abundant snow, I was able to enjoy a moment in the snowfall with Mr. Two Year Old, which is where I grabbed the clips above. I’m so glad he loved it as much as I did. Anytime I’m able to dwell in idyllic…
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Recent Views
More photography here and on my Instagram. A dusting on the pier at our local park: Just following in Little Man’s footsteps: This is either a failed photo or the perfect encapsulation of Christmas morning with a toddler: Liked the colors and light in our front bushes (which still have Christmas lights on them) while…
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Recent Views
More photography here and on my Instagram. Watching this little wanderer discover the wilds of Pure Michigan™: Caught some nice evening light in our local playground’s jungle gym: Technically this will be Mr. 22 Month Old’s third winter (he was born during a blizzard), but the first he remembers and appreciates. Hence his major surprise…
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Winter was always winter
Edwin Way Teale, Wandering Through Winter: Winter is a time of superlative life. Frosty air sets our blood to racing. The nip of the wind quickens our step. Creatures abroad at this season of the year live intensely, stimulated by cold, using all their powers, all their capacities, to survive. Gone is the languor of August…
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I Ran Here for the Sunrise
A poem I ran here for the sunrise. I ran here straight down a concrete corridor, a road slippened by snow, past a corner store where coffee and pie rise to life in manifest alchemy. With my breath steaming in locomotion I approach the boulderow, a stone sluice of Sisyphean resolve—bulwark against the lacustrine, but this morn like poppy…
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Snow Bank Stories
On my block the snow banks reign. They billow with the winter, building girth with every snowfall and polar vortex. This winter has been especially harsh. The banks are bloated with layers of snow that together tell the story of the season. The inch in late November sits at the bottom, hugging the frozen tundra and…
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The Cold Is A Sharpener
A poem The cold is a sharpener. A whetstone on the world. It makes the sky stronger, like marble, more vivid in its crepuscular color. It makes the air thicker: the crunch of my boots on the sidewalk’s new coat of snow slices through it, so clean and clear. It makes my body taut, every…