one moment in the life of a little space

down by the river

the entanglement of winter grasses and dogwood is like food for the soul at this time of year . . .

purple hyacinth

the gift of a purple hyacinth in the cold bleak mid-winter continues even as it loses its bloom . . .

a moment

walking alongside the river . . .

metal roses

metal roses, handmade by my buddy james pronk - a master of metallurgical magic . . .

frostbow

Frost´bow`
n. 1. A white arc or circle in the sky attending frosty weather and formed by reflection of sunlight from ice crystals floating in the air; the parhelic circle whose center is at the zenith.

rainbow plume

the beautiful rainbow plume . . .

mid winter by the river

walking alongside the river in the early morning on my way to school . . .   the river steaming into the thirty five below zero winter air . . . the sun, full and bright but not warm . . . definitely not warm!

the beauty of a glassed in porch

early morning frosty windows on her porch . . .

snowshoes!

i bought myself some new snowshoes so we can go off the trails and into the woods

 to see what we can see and take photographs!!!!

deliquescent

a heart becoming a butterfly . . . 

caught in mid melt . . . 

deliquescent . . . 

“every moment of light and dark is a miracle.” walt whitman

a mid-winter setting sun

walking home through the light of a mid-winter setting sun . . . 

my street . . . 

hard wintering by the river

the light pours through . . .

a small river of light and colour temporarily frozen in time and space . . . . 

upriver in the january melt . . .

looking upriver through the successive stages of melt as evidenced in the retreating ice pack . . .

cheese making

i got to attend a workshop on simple cheesemaking recently that excited me tremendously . . .

tom spills the secrets!

tom. half peterborough boy.  half north carolina boy.

the dangling and slowly draining cheesecloth bag of to be becoming cheese . . .

oak leaf . . .

little autumn treasures keep arriving at the front of my home . . .

the view acros the river

there's something about black and white photography that separates it so thoroughly from colour . . .

here are some wartime houses on the southern edge of east city in peterborough.

the vinegar bottle

the blogger

a self-portrait of the fifty six year old gently maturing man. inside a life filled with astonishing fortune. kindness and grace literally walks into his life. 

he gets to be a teacher - this alone would blow the minds of all who knew him until he was thirty three (and some since!) 

a life coloured with the love of many and the remarkable presence of so many more . . . 

and perhaps most incredibly - the purpose of almost everything before is revealed in an instant and then everything in his life begins again from there . . .

caprice

this leaf lay in the snow on its own . . . there were no others like it anywhere nearby . . . it reminded me of how we travel through this place . . . how do we get to where we are . . . carried on the winds of caprice and fortune . . .  each entirely unique and astonishing . . .

open water . . .

when the river melts . . .

the very cold and snow

i can't stop my eyes . . .

i can't stop my eyes desperately seeking out colour in the greyscale that is a peterborough winter . . . .

busy

even deep into winter's stillness, 

there's a "busyness"that accompanies the visual presence of winter . .