tanker

carrizo plain, ca. april 2012.

young madrone

camp. december 2011.

right before i jumped in for a quick, chill dip.

watercolor landscape

northbay coast. october 2011.

out the train window, pointing the lens straight ahead so no reflection creeps into the picture. a blurry predawn shot of the bay.

stop

zion. november 2009.

my favorite landscape

route 36, between red bluff and wildwood. july 2011.

on the way to the camp bbq. surprised there are even street signs out there.

dawn (over the lagoon)

marin headlands. july 2011.

two nevada scenes

 

eastern nevada. november 2009. 

as i drove west, home, from utah. a warm afternoon as i crossed the border, and a frosty, fast dawn the next day, mid-state. the clouds, the colors, the rolling shadows and road. a dead coyote on the side of the road, frozen stiff. a pure, clean aloneness, so right in such an empty, open place. huddled grasses growing out of the road's shoulder. everything dry, crisp. lizards in the day sun, birds flying home–to where?–at dusk. a cold welcome, but the feeling of belonging just the same.

a cool fall delta crossing

 

abel tasman coast, new zealand. april 2011. 

i want to take my shoes off again. i'm ready to wade across.

clinging clouds

milford sound, new zealand. april 2011.

queenstown

queenstown, nz. april 2011.

from the stone patio of the deco hostel, below their apple trees. looking southwest from the city, at the longest lake in New Zealand.

the hostel had stuffed animals you could borrow for a snuggle and a great kitchen. on man street, up the hill from town.

early fall in the south island

west of queenstown, NZ. april 2011.

they don't say "en-zee" they say "en-zed" which is awesome in that way that everything different and new is awesome when you're in a new place.

this is the view i had down river just before jumping off the bridge i was standing on and hurdling head first toward the water, before the bungy cord attached to my ankles caught me. about half way down, i clearly remember the thought, "am i really doing this? did i just jump off that bridge on purpose? this is sooooo dumb." but then i bounced and was flooded with euphoria, so that turned out all right. still, i'm never doing that again.

a fanning spread

half moon bay. feb 2011.

a fanning spread of wavelets and ripples as sediment and sand wash out to sea.

behind the fence

half moon bay. feb 2011.

a blustery end to the day

golden gate bridge. feb 2011.

paused for a cloudy sunset and a few sips of whiskey on the long ride home sunday. what a great reward.

lay me down and rest

bolinas bay. feb 2011.

on the way home from bike camping. we left from embarcadero and rode across the golden gate bridge, then followed the bay side north past fairfax. camped in samuel p. taylor, then breakfast in pt. reyes station. home along route one. hilly, but worth it. gorgeous weather. 83 miles all together. it's the next day, and i feel great--can't wait for the next trip out.

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.

Night Swimming

Mokowanis Lake, Glacier. 2010.

Cleveland, on the far right, has the largest direct rise in the (continental?) U.S., and is one of the five tallest peaks in the park.

Can't wait to go back...

On the First Try

Lake Mead. 2009.

On the First Try

I feel so lonely
and clutching my elbows in
toward my ribs doesn't ease
that (pathetic) tightening in my throat.

A puzzle has sat undone on my table
for two months now,
the figures fleshed out,
the grey-purple sky in pieces.

But they say the sun will shine
this long holiday weekend
and what more can I ask for?
My friends write and call, inquire.

Meanwhile, I want to drift away
into that world of soft yellow knowing
where someone cooks for you,
even when they're tired.

I want to know without asking
and not have to ask to be told
that love is mine for the taking for granted,
the reveling in, the wrapping around me like a blanket.

I know I haven't tried each piece
in each spot, but must I? Each one?
I am greedy for the thrill of selecting a single one
and carefully placing it in its home.

Blue, Off Into

North bay. 2010.

On The Railing

Novato, CA. 2009.