Categories
Commentary Funny and/or Strange Photo I Like

When you get excited about going camping.

http://9gag.com/gag/ae3DR5b/when-you-get-excited-about-going-camping.

We don’t get out to camp as much as we used to, or as much as we’d like to, but when we do—let’s just say that I really get this.  Down to the soul.

ae3DR5b_700b

Categories
Photo I Took

Autumn Photo: Step Into Fall

We’ll see if we can keep this seasonal-themed photo thing going.  This one isn’t the most vibrant, but it has a sort of subtle genius to it, don’t you think?  I’m not just saying that because I took it.  It’s just…obvious.
MinCreekEdit_20061023_079_edited

Categories
Commentary Journal Photo I Like

Alsea Falls, Oregon

just click the link, and the pretty picture will make you smile.

Alsea Falls, Oregon.

Found this nice photo–very near where I used to live.  Thanks!

Categories
Photo I Took

Honeymoon 1995

The only picture we took on our honeymoon–the camera is tied to a tree branch.  Strange word, isn’t it: honeymoon?

  Image

Categories
Uncategorized

Bigfoot is Back in Pennsylvania Wilds

bigfoot

When I was a kid, thinking about this guy used to keep me awake at night on camping trips–now he’s back.

http://www.pittsburghmagazine.com/Best-of-the-Burgh-Blogs/The-412/October-2013/Bigfoot-Possibly-Real-Possibly-Stalking-Pennsylvania-Woods/

How do you catch a Bigfoot?  I’ve heard people trying to bait traps with big chunks of meat.  I suggest a different form of bait. It always worked for me–and some folks have, ahem, noticed a certain resemblance….

bigfoot-kiss

Categories
My Poetry Poetry

This Hacked Down Hemlock

hemlock-forest-2
this hacked down hemlock, splayed, cracked
giant jack the rippered from her feet,
locks left for slash while toes still grip
rock and loam and clay, slain at the ankles,
clenches my muddy witness fists, having
served first (for me) as landmark, then as shrine,
once as umbrella, even, once as guardian for a
two second, tight-lipped first kiss.
Now, at the end, she retires as teacher,
a wild fine rotting pre-pulp history volume.
See here, the width of this one thumb,
covers all my thread thin years:
twenty five narrow lines clearly document
the time spent blushing hope, sweating danger,
breathing love, fear, anger, and remorse.
I suggest to you, dear wondering stranger:
All we want is nothing, all we know isn’t much,
to be thus eclipsed, and by just a thumb.