in the car wash

quality time in the car wash . . . . .

through this . . .

one of my favourite portals . . .

promontory . . .

a copse of trees noses into the wind and clouds of an oncoming storm . . . 

the riverside farm

i've seen this farm many times and i never tire of its fortunate placement beside this meandering river . . . .

still life . . . .

time by the river

i love the autumn for the natural assemblages that form 

around tiny pebbled promontories along the river ......

willow reflecting

in jackson park, here in peterborough . . . . 

see me . . . tell about me . . .

stopping so many times . . . 

so many times it was as if everything i passed was whispering .... 

see me . . . . tell about me . . . 

all the way home from omemee . . .

letting go . . . and then not . . .

this, this moment in this very tender and fragile world, 

holds the simple experience of leaves letting go . . . 

and yet, so very here ...

soft fences

a different beauty

i love that plants can hold their beauty 

even as their bodies retreat into themselves 

for the winter . . . 

morning fog

still

this day

the sweet soft early morning glow of leaves holding the light of a low on the horizon sun . . .

gossamer strands

"a Christian will part with anything rather than his hope; he knows that hope will keep the heart both from aching and breaking, from fainting and sinking; he knows that hope is a beam of God, a spark of glory, and that nothing shall extinguish it till the soul be filled with glory." 

this dude was a non-conformist puritan in the sixteen hundreds . . . thomas brooks

on my ride in, 

this is what hope looks like;

two beautiful flowers,

conncted by almost invisible

gossamer strands

as pieces of cloud

“This is how I would die 

into the love I have for you: 

As pieces of cloud 

dissolve in sunlight.” 

Jalaluddin Rumi

autumn reeds

veils

pink pinwheels

early morning frost, freshly melted as the sun crests the hills to the east . . .

off the porch

autumn colours

entanglement

close to the ground

the great holy golden dendrites

getting off the bike

when it's this beautiful in the morning, 

i get off my bike and walk for a while.

there's simply no sense in rushing!

a snowy yard duty