The old branches shrouded the stump, looking like wings of snow. Almost angelic to the bunnies or birds that could have hidden beneath, protected from cold or predators.
“Who has wrapped up the waters as a cloak?”
We rounded the curve in the trail and there, ghostly, rising, floating, dripping “drops of water, which distill as rain from the mist.”
“He spreads the snow like wool and scatters the frost like ashes.”
The week before, the trail was clear, and the aspen leaves blocked the sky overhead. What a change a bomb cyclone has made. This day, the snow was 8 to 12 inches deep, and golden leaves dotted the crystalline carpet.
and of the sky over the neighborhood meadow. From this perspective, the grass is as tall as the cottonwood tree.
Big falls … “Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls” Burney Falls
Resting falls … “‘Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters’”
Little falls … “He waters the mountains from his upper chambers; the land is satisfied by the fruit of his work.” Fordyce Falls Creek
Before Heading Out — Last DSLR
Looking down on our barbecue … hoping
The owl who came to dinner — Last cell
Inland Northern trail near Mt. Shasta, laboring up the dusty trail, hot and sweaty. But look up, where “… over everything the glory will be a canopy.”
Coastal mossy madrona along the Dipsea Trail. ” … how is the wood of a vine different from that of a branch from any of the trees in the forest?” Or a blanket of moss from leaves?
Azalea or rhododendron? “Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come …”
Texture on the hiking trail
Texture of light and brick in Sacramento
And what about the elastic texture of time? It flies smoothly when having fun, yet drags roughly when dutifully dogging work.
I’ve not had time to capture or create an image to express this taffy-pull challenge of returning to work, that necessary reality tugging time from photography. And, therein lies the rub of my existential Which Way Photo Challenge: take time to make a living or make time to take a photo.
All hail the end of the COVID-battical!
Last full moon waning — last on the DSLR
Last trail trekked — last on the cell camera
After the rain, as the day ends, the setting sun ignites the clearing clouds.
Outdoor dining at Winnemucca Lake, Round Top Mountain ahead
For every bark, there is a season.
“a season for every activity under the heavens: … a time to uproot …
… a time to tear down …
… a time to scatter …
… a time to embrace … and a time for peace.”
… on the moss tops of the rocks outside my window today, teasing me to catch the light as it danced into and reflected from the moss. I never quite tagged it.
“Come and see the works of God, Who is awesome in His deeds toward the sons of man.”
The final view on a hike in Hidden Falls Regional Park.
“the wisdom that comes from above is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere.”
“Peacemakers who sow in peace shall reap a harvest of righteousness.”
After the bloom … before deep winter … red-gold leaves on December’s flowering pear tree. “For every thing, there is a season ….”