Shifting through photos
I feel no connection, no recognition
to the person with time and years
ahead of them, looking to the future.

Pausing at one in particular in the midst of summer,
oak leaves burning with white light,
the sun slowly fading into the horizon
behind the hill at the street’s end.

What was etched into the mind
when the image became a permanent
moment tossed into a shoe box?
What was the last thought defining that moment?

Years will pass and that young face
will undergo an outward expression
of the strife, agony, depression, and final transformation
built upon the experiences, cast from the struggle.

In time what we are in this life
circles back to the foundation,
the hands pushing up from the earth,
the roots feeding a child’s growth and imagination.

Turning back with empty hands

they find the path along the river.

Rain begins as they near the forest

and where they last arrived.

Stopping at the treeline they wait

through changing seasons.

– to be continued –

As the rain subsides
and the sky fills with birds
I am left with a fragment
of who I was yesterday.

That is to say each day
we are given the chance to change
to shed what is not needed
and keep what we are destined to be.


Sirens fade into the cityscape.
Cigarette smoke encircles the face.
She stands at the corner lost.
She stands at the corner waiting.

The city lights mask the darkness
sleeping beneath bridges,
the depth of hopelessness
strolling midnight streets.

Beyond here false prophets
speak hollow words and promises
that never come to fruition,
they never come down here.

What is left when hope has left?
What do I tell my children?

She looks each way, pause
and crosses the street to
another corner, another street light
hoping this side will be different.


November is the transition of fall to winter.
November gives up the red, orange, yellow, and gold for brown into grey.

The sky gains depth, definition, and clarity.
November is laid bare at your feet and we head within ourselves to find warmth and answers to the probing questions and immediate need to cope with change.

November is the month we begin to find ourselves.

November Depth
November Depth

To the outside we are primitive specks of dust lost on some distant chunk of molten rock destined for an uncertain future defined by the egoistical driven actions we take for ourselves with little regard to the sphere of influence we exert on those around us.

We are primitive in our methods and usage of earths resources and limited in our knowledge to expand beyond the current landscape.

We blindly walk through night and dust and through each other.

When will this end? Where is the desperately needed shift to open closed eyes and minds?

Where are they and what are they waiting for?

Just finished moving to a new house (whose idea was it to move in winter?) and we have emerged from the boxes and disarray.  So much going on, so many changes, but it is the start of a new chapter.  Each day is a reminder of who we were yesterday and who we can become tomorrow.

January has come and gone and February is still a frozen landscape.  Snow piles have quickly reached over mailboxes, around corners, and now threaten to block out windows.  We don layer after layer and become indistinguishable from one another.

What do you do when it is below zero and the snow is up to your knees?  Snowshoe of course!  I took out a new pair of MSR Evo snowshoes for the first time, and was a bit disappointed.  The binding system requires the use of bare fingers and at 10 below zero, was no fun.  Atlas snowshoes are still the best overall for cold weather and snow in Minnesota.  They are easy to setup and adjust with gloves on and the decking material takes a lot of abuse and does not crack or stiffen.

Into the Depths
Into the Depths
This Tastes Good
This Tastes Good
New Backyard
New Backyard
New Backyard
New Backyard