through the fog

looking southeast across the river towards east city . . .

arc . . .

standing on the london street pedestrian bridge looking down 

at the small portion of river that has melted . . . 

dancing on the skin of a creek . . .

winter and spring dancing together on the skin of meade creek . . .

river ice . . .

 river ice - water, air, decayed vegetation, snow, rain, sunshine, the whispered passings of the unfolding stories that are people.

other worlds ...

yard duty right now is lovely. there are little patches of ice dotted across the surface of the playing field. when i get down on my hands and knees, they look like little constellations and nebulas.

changes . . .

the river is gradually opening up and in the process, great chunks of the mid-stream ice are being lifted up and onto the shoreline ice . . .

the golden beast . . .

oh how she loves wendy's stale gingerbread . . .

waiting patiently . . .

for my favourite ice cream window to open and take my order for some black cherrry and death by chocolate ice cream!

cusps . . .

the river . . . close to shore the ice remians thick and solid . . . but the middle has melted clear and is  running freely . . .

spring skies

it still isn't anywhere near warm yet, but the skies have changed . . .

a crystal clear day . . .

as the snow and ice pulls away and returns to the air to fall elsewhere . . . it leaves tiny sculptures  . . .

cloud chamber

ice under the london street bridge reminded me of the first time i saw a cloud chamber . . .

as fast as thought

“To fly as fast as thought, to anywhere that is, you must begin by knowing that you have already arrived.”

Richard Bach,
Jonathan Livingston Seagull

the days of my life . . .

“I love the dark hours of my being.

My mind deepens into them.

There I can find, as in old letters,

the days of my life, already lived,

and held like a legend, and understood.” 

Rainer Maria Rilke

Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God

mid march

an early spring evening walk. birdsong.

as the snow melts . . .

spring and brother sun are gradually revealing the wonderful layering of ice and snow covering the
ground for the last few months . . .

the river opens . . .

further south of yesterday's images . . . the river is opening so slowly . . . revealing layers of days that were colder than cold . . . snows that were so snowy . . .

the river opens up again . . .

the river has opened up nicely north of little lake and i had the great fortune of spending time beside it under a blue blue sun-filled sky this afternoon . . .

ice fog

i got out late for this day when the ice fog settled in and softened the light . . . but here are some pics taken from my favourite summer eating and talking spot . . . the silver bean . . .

on my way home . . .

here is my most of the year-round ride stopped by the river for a spring photo op . . .

the bridge

it feels very good and lovely to be on the bridge between winter and spring . . .

the river's sinuous self

the long shadows . . .

the playful clouds

it's such a pleasure to see the different playful clouds arriving after a long cold winter of diffident surly bruising cloudforms . . .