
“The sun sets, but my spirit soars.”

“Never let a sunset go undocumented.”

“Sunsets are proof that endings can be beautiful too.”

“Sunsets, the perfect end to a perfect day.”
–Photos by me
“The sun sets, but my spirit soars.”
“Never let a sunset go undocumented.”
“Sunsets are proof that endings can be beautiful too.”
“Sunsets, the perfect end to a perfect day.”
–Photos by me
I went back to Rapid River to get more shots of the photogenic pelicans. Here’s what I got:
Every spring, the pelicans gather at the mouth of Rapid River as it flows into Rainy River. The fishing here is unparalleled for both the birds and American as well as Canadian fishermen.
The surging river is a dangerous place, even for these seasoned water-fowl. This poor guy got knocked around on the rocks a bit, and he’s trying to get his head on straight again. Notice the wall of water crashing down behind him.
A giant wave explodes on the rocks. It’s hard to believe, but the river will be reduced to but a trickle in a month or two. It’s nature’s way.
I don’t think the fishing is going too well so far, because I see a lot of birds fighting over a single fish. I wouldn’t want to swordplay with these hungry scrappers.
–Photos by me
The young swan was ridden with shame,
And his cruel mother’s words were to blame:
“You’re big and you’re dumb,
And that’s all you’ll become!”
And in time, that’s all he became.
–Photo by me
i love storms;
when black clouds appear
with lightning
and thunder,
i get a tingle of fear
mingled with wonder
–photo by me
–photos by me
With 91 active wildfires up in Alberta, the smoke’s getting a little thick around here at the Minnesota/Canada border. Fortunately, it’s riding on the upper winds so far, and it’s detrimental effects have been minimal. However, there’s a little cooler weather in the forecast, and that may bring the smoke down to ground level.
Two years ago, it was so bad I could hardly see across the street. My eyes and nose stung, and my throat got pretty sore. Like I said then, it was like living in L.A. back in the smoggy days.
The sun comes up pink, and then turns a color I can only describe as cream soda for the rest of the day. It’s a strange, almost eerie sky: there are no clouds and the sun is right there, but I don’t think any boys will be toasting ants with magnifying glasses in the near future.
Minnesota doesn’t need your smoke, Canada–we’re soon legalizing our own.
–Photos by me
the sun aligning
with a porthole in the clouds
is like new-found faith–
suddenly, we see the light
but who can hold on to it?
–photo by me
I dreamed of a big black bird
Hovering o’er the trees,
And when I woke, I wondered
If it had been an omen,
For long ago I’d heard
That a big black bird in dreams
Means one’s about to blunder–
Especially with a woman.
It’s true: I’d made a date
With a woman I’d just met
But I swear on my life
That it went against my heart,
And yet it’s not too late
To call it all off yet–
For I promised my late wife
That till death do us part.
–Photo by me
–Photos by me
a cloud-cover leak
emits a fine, high-pressure
spray of stray sunshine
–photo by me