blurred ground

south of bakersfield. 2010.

low clouds in the dying light. pink seeping from the tufts and arms, leaving a grey purple be hind.

tonight i rode home in the rain, my jacket and pants glossy with water. it's supposed to rain forever.

west

joshua tree. 2010.

window in the wall

ryan ranch. 2010.

prickly little things

joshua tree. 2010.

i think we counted a total of seven kinds of cactus, at least that we could differentiate. not included here is beaver tail, which is a rather plain grey-green flat wrinkly leafed cactus that apparently blooms beautiful pink flowers in the spring and has microscopic splinters for spines (ouch!).

these guys were all spikes and hidden watery flesh, just waiting for the next rain.

tire in the salt pools

Between Mojave and Joshua Tree. 2010.

we were driving along, having just left the crater, and mari wanted to stop and taste/touch/walk on the salt flats. there was a skinny green pool--maybe a half mile long--between two mounds. when we got closer, we found a tire and, off to the side, a beer bottle floating in the pool. what an awesome green color!

black rock ridge

Between the Mojave and Joshua Tree lies a volcanic crater of small blackened rock and a broken round ridge. 2010.

shades

Kelso Dunes. 2010.

on the way up, 2nd november in a row. maybe it should become my annual pilgrimage. just can't get enough of that still silence, where blood thunders through your ear and a car drives loudly by three miles away. 

mojave

Mojave Desert. 2010.

This is facing south, with the Kelso Sand Dunes behind me. Shortly after daybreak.

bricks

Barstow. 2010.

arches over clouds

Barstow. 2010.

On the way to Mojave. The Barstow train station, in its heyday glory.

tree bark

Caliente area. 2010.

what was there

Near Caliente, but south of the 58 (east south east of Bakersfield). 2010.

The shredded trunk was well weathered, but the browner grass continued to grow outside the ring of ghost branches.

november sunset

Backyard view. 2010.

winter weather, winter rain

Backyard. 2010.

local findings

Backyard. 2010.

I've kidnapped a local cat and have brought her to my room. I feel this is completely allowed as she was sitting on my porch, clearly waiting for me, despite the fact that it was raining out. So I toweled her off and will now proceed to snuggle her somewhere between a bit and to death. I don't have anything to wake up for in the morning, so I'm planning out lounging lazily, watching tv, reading, and snuggling.

In the interest of not getting cat pee on my things, I will likely release Mildred (the cat) before going to sleep tonight. She's grey with a white belly.

Oh, and this is a picture of a tall, gone-to-seed brussels sprout that is growing in my backyard. Taken at dusk.

industry sunset

Tahoe. 2010.

a clear cold evening on the lake.

second street light down

My Street. 2010.

all in a row

Ralph Hawley Elementary School, Emeryville, CA. 2010.

at the ped/bike plan workshop, #1. all the citizens had left, and only the staff was left. all our bikes, lined up in a row. the sun was out, but not for long.

upthrust

Park Ave, Emeryville. 2010.

the view out my window at work. the sun sliding down the fronds, cutting through the small fingers of air in between each saw tooth. yellow-orange seed stems hairy in between.

the clouds were showing off their variety today. small wavy ones, large broad flat ones, dots, stripes, dense ones teased apart by the swift wind miles up, shoving them all from one horizon to the next.

start 'em young

Emeryville. 2010.

temescal creek

Emeryville. 2010.

cloudy day colors

Emeryville. 2010.

bikes below

Emeryville. 2010.

We went on a bike tour this morning, all around Emeryville, to look at all the good and bad bike facilities in the city. Plenty to talk about.

This little girl was with the tour, and quite busy taking photos during our stops. We climbed a nearby pedestrian bridge for a better shot.

maroon: or, a meditation on lifelong commitment

Three Chimneys Inn, Durham, NH. 2010.

intertwined

SFO. 2010.

On the way to the wedding. Late night flying, nothing but black out the window and a single star, probably a planet really, if you squint hard. The red lights on top and below reflecting against the small vertical bits on the wing. Despite the dark, I always choose a seat far enough back for a clear view of the ground. Maybe I watch the patterns of street lights, leaking out from an unidentifiable center; maybe I wake at the first twinge of dawn, a deep grey that comes from everywhere before it comes from anywhere. I hand a piece of gum to my neighbor, pleased that he takes it. I scrunch up my camping pillow, pull down my eye mask, and tilt my head at a hugely uncomfortable angle. I love flying.

with a flash of color

Durham, NH. 2010.

The bridal bouquet. orange calla lilies, pine cones, orchids, roses, wheat, berries, magnolia leaves. fall colors, excited and glorious.

Prints

Durham, NH. 2010.

Two friends, doing their makeup before a wedding. Afternoon. Fall foliage out the window, bouncing light back in.

black windows

SFO. 2010.

On my way to a wedding in New Hampshire. Laying tangled in benches of seats, head tilted back, upsidedown photo of this bank of windows, black and white and sterile all over.

Here's a poem I found in an old journal of mine, copied into it on January 13, 2003. Written by Wendell Berry.


Grace

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound,
in fear of what my life, and what my children's life may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water,
and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives
with forethought of greif.

I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light.
For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.


I love you, Dana.

warehouse window

Oakland, CA. 2010.

On my bike ride to work. This empty and abandoned warehouse is missing its southern wall, but somehow has a nice paint job. Recently a bulldozer came along and removed all the junk that had been piled around the parking lot area adjacent. Cats--maybe ten or twenty--would live in and around the piles, and someone would place dishes of food for them in the parking lot. When they cleared the lot, they also dug out a large cat tail plant that used to spread its seeds around on windy days.

Morning sun reflecting off the wall and through the open window.

Porchlight

Claremont Street, Oakland. 2010.

Lovely Lillie, Lovely Light

60th Street, Oakland. 2010.

Night wanders in my new neighborhood. I love this time of evening, when it seems like the color is running out of everything, until you look at it through a camera.

(Coffee) Factory Windows

Emeryville. 2010.

Blue Brick

Emeryville. 2010.

On the Table

Angel Island. 2010.

Night Hospital

Angel Island. 2010.

Bay Bridge Backdrop

Angel Island. 2010.

Night Sun

Prince Street, Berkeley. 2010.

Frolick

Fairy Field, Southern Canada. 2010.

Pale Slate Blue with White-Yellow Sunlight Atop It

Driving southwest out of the Canadian Rockies. 2010.

Our last view of icy water, roiling and toiling its way seaward.

Leaving Beauty Behind

Banff. 2010.

The view as we drove away. Low sunlight, clinging fingers of fog. Dew still on each blade of grass. That rain-fresh smell.

The road, before us.

Birch

Banff. 2010.

Alone

Banff. 2010.

Benches

Banff. 2010.

Late Night Dusk

Banff, Canada.

Views

Fairmont Hotel, Lake Louise. 2010.