This is really beautiful - all of it. all of it. Thank you. Thank you for sharing your heart. I can feel your connection to this place and of course to Darla. Adding your one-sentence journals is so powerful. I really, really love the black and white photo of the foggy river.
(Also amazed all those photos came over in email! Substack is forever telling me after about 8 photos that they won't.)
While the writer meticulously sculpts words to illicit emotions from events, the poet and the artist, like the landscape, craft the space for both the manifest world and the spirit. Chris, this photo and lyrical piece touches on one of the most meaningful for me, that you have produced. Thank you.
Sunshine gets | all the fanfare | but I live for | foggy mornings | on the river | mist rising in clouds | from its surface | herons overhead | heard, unseen
You and Darla the Adventure Dog and all that beauty! Our animal friends are dear to us, as are our beloved places. Thank you for everything here.
I was creeping through the photos, loved the collage of Darla, then I spied the little owl (?) in the tree trunk. OMG, that was my poem for the day. Thank you for the images.
The winter stillness in some of those photos is almost palpable. I’m in a much different climate, but the cold peacefulness was all around just a few minutes ago when I welcomed the day on my front porch. Every morning, I say a small prayer of gratitude, and it includes my dogs, four of whom have passed on but will always be by my side. The fifth, a pit, is dozing next to me on the couch. We’re so lucky to share our lives with dogs. Thank you for these beautiful photos and poems.
So stunning and peaceful, at once. Your photos, your words, the words of others -- all evocative and haunting and startling, too. Thank you for taking us along.
I feel the same: Sunshine gets | all the fanfare | but I live for | foggy mornings | on the river | mist rising in clouds | from its surface | herons overhead | heard, unseen
The beauty and dynamism of one specific place in nature is something I think gets overlooked accidentally, or forgotten on purpose, by many. That ‘oh, but we’ve already been there’ feeling. Thank you for showing that complexity and meaning so vividly. I live in Cambodia, and most Fridays for the last six or seven years some friends and I gather on what we call “the Shack.’ Little more than a floating platform with a rusty blue metal roof, all supported by a couple of big plastic barrels. It looks out on a large branch of the Tonle Sap river, fishermen puttering by in small boats, people who make their homes on the river bathing, swimming, washing their clothes. I’ve amassed dozens and dozens of photos over the years, each one unique and memorable. The sunsets, clouds, reflections on the water. We only have dry and rainy seasons here, but the shifts and changes can happen in just minutes. Whenever I move on from here, that will be the place that I’ll miss the most, hands down.
Caroline, thank you for this. You are exactly right. Somewhere along the line, unconsciously, I decided to just get to "know" that mile stretch of riverbank. Now that I have somewhat – there is still so much to learn! – I love how what I've absorbed there spills over into so many other environments I find myself in, if only in the practice of keenly observing.
I have a similar relationship to the view just outside the window to my left. The way the weather changes, the way the light changes, the way the mists rise and fall and how the ridge of cliffs and mountains are revealed or not ... and then the constantly changing community of birds who pass through. It is all captivating and I never weary of the observation. 🙏🏽
This is really beautiful - all of it. all of it. Thank you. Thank you for sharing your heart. I can feel your connection to this place and of course to Darla. Adding your one-sentence journals is so powerful. I really, really love the black and white photo of the foggy river.
(Also amazed all those photos came over in email! Substack is forever telling me after about 8 photos that they won't.)
Substack is a liar! It tells me the same thing too! 😂
Excellent body of work. What a stunning place. Love to Darla’s spirit. Peace, friend.
💚🙏🏽💚
While the writer meticulously sculpts words to illicit emotions from events, the poet and the artist, like the landscape, craft the space for both the manifest world and the spirit. Chris, this photo and lyrical piece touches on one of the most meaningful for me, that you have produced. Thank you.
Thank you, Richard.
Sunshine gets | all the fanfare | but I live for | foggy mornings | on the river | mist rising in clouds | from its surface | herons overhead | heard, unseen
You and Darla the Adventure Dog and all that beauty! Our animal friends are dear to us, as are our beloved places. Thank you for everything here.
Thank you.
I was creeping through the photos, loved the collage of Darla, then I spied the little owl (?) in the tree trunk. OMG, that was my poem for the day. Thank you for the images.
The moment with that owl – it's called a northern saw-whet owl – was one of my favorite ever encounters.
And there's a northern pygmy owl at Council right now. Or at least yesterday afternoon when my wife took its picture.
I'm not surprised by that at all. The only place I've ever seen one of those was up Rock Creek years ago.
That's SO COOL. Someday I will see one of the little owls, a saw-whet or even a screech owl. those are moments!
The winter stillness in some of those photos is almost palpable. I’m in a much different climate, but the cold peacefulness was all around just a few minutes ago when I welcomed the day on my front porch. Every morning, I say a small prayer of gratitude, and it includes my dogs, four of whom have passed on but will always be by my side. The fifth, a pit, is dozing next to me on the couch. We’re so lucky to share our lives with dogs. Thank you for these beautiful photos and poems.
Thank you. And thank you for telling me about your dogs. 💚
So stunning and peaceful, at once. Your photos, your words, the words of others -- all evocative and haunting and startling, too. Thank you for taking us along.
🙏🏽
so sorry that you are without your Darla on the physical realm. blessings to you both during this transition. I miss my shadow, Bill, everyday.
Thank you, Natasha. It’s been a few years but, as you know, it’s still difficult. As it should be, really.
Thank you for this. It was wonderful; I consider it my first Christmas present!
Thank you for sharing your wonderful writing and photos.
Omg Darla! So glad I got to see her with your personal eye. Really beautiful photos - including the nature photos - thank you!!
Thank you, Jenny.
I feel the same: Sunshine gets | all the fanfare | but I live for | foggy mornings | on the river | mist rising in clouds | from its surface | herons overhead | heard, unseen
💚
You got me with the photos of Darla and your bit of poetry for her.
But, you got me with the winter photos, too…
This one brought me to tears, Chris. Just beautiful. I hope to visit there and take in the beauty as well.
Thank you, Kama. It is snowing and beautiful here this morning, a perfect time to visit.
Thank you Chris. These photos transported me, the accompanying few lines just right to add depth and Poetry to augment them.
What a lovely refuge so near at hand.
The beauty and dynamism of one specific place in nature is something I think gets overlooked accidentally, or forgotten on purpose, by many. That ‘oh, but we’ve already been there’ feeling. Thank you for showing that complexity and meaning so vividly. I live in Cambodia, and most Fridays for the last six or seven years some friends and I gather on what we call “the Shack.’ Little more than a floating platform with a rusty blue metal roof, all supported by a couple of big plastic barrels. It looks out on a large branch of the Tonle Sap river, fishermen puttering by in small boats, people who make their homes on the river bathing, swimming, washing their clothes. I’ve amassed dozens and dozens of photos over the years, each one unique and memorable. The sunsets, clouds, reflections on the water. We only have dry and rainy seasons here, but the shifts and changes can happen in just minutes. Whenever I move on from here, that will be the place that I’ll miss the most, hands down.
Caroline, thank you for this. You are exactly right. Somewhere along the line, unconsciously, I decided to just get to "know" that mile stretch of riverbank. Now that I have somewhat – there is still so much to learn! – I love how what I've absorbed there spills over into so many other environments I find myself in, if only in the practice of keenly observing.
I have a similar relationship to the view just outside the window to my left. The way the weather changes, the way the light changes, the way the mists rise and fall and how the ridge of cliffs and mountains are revealed or not ... and then the constantly changing community of birds who pass through. It is all captivating and I never weary of the observation. 🙏🏽
Another magnificent work. We lost our 14 year old malamute in early November. Difficult times.
Thank you. And sorry about your pooch. 💚