time, all the long red lines
that take control
of all the smokelike streams
that flow into your dreams
that big blue open sea
that can’t be crossed
that can’t be climbed
just born between
oh the two white lines
distant gods and faded signs
of all those blinking lites
you had to pick the one tonite

holes, dug by little moles
angry jealous spies
got telephones for eyes
come to you as friends
all those endless ends
that can’t be tied
oh they make me laugh
and always make me cry
’til they drop like flies
and sink like polished stones
of all the stones I throw

how does that old song go

how does that old song go

bands, those funny little plans
that never work quite right

Anyone who’s been paying attention to this site will know that I’m a pretty big fan of signs and how we use simplistic images to convey powerful messages.  This image in particular is one of those examples and just happens to be one of my favourite signs in recent times.  Simple, straight to the point.

Warren River National Park.

So I decided to post a watercolour painting I recently did…

…actually, I lie, but, it had you going for a bit, right?  Still waters, Big Brook Arboretum.

Happy Birthday Karen; may your next year be the best you’ve had, and yet not the best to come.

The many grasses that bind sand dunes together take on a very warm hue, generally, in late afternoon sunlight.  Conversely, in winter, they seem almost morose pinned against a grey sky.

In every moment of our existence, we are in that field of all possibilities where we have access to an infinity of choices.

– Deepak Chopra

Little fingers, tiny toes
Baby scent, button nose

Little baby, growing tall
I will catch you when you fall
You’ll grow up, now wait and see
One day you’ll be as big as me

You are my life
You are my soul
I’ll protect you
It is my role

Little fingers, tiny toes
Baby scent, button nose

– Alyssa Brooks

Happy Birthday little man, I look forward to seeing who you become, from your first tiny steps through the path of life to the mountains you ascend.

After another weekend sojourn resulting in a few days of missing photos, I’ve returned somewhat refreshed.  A more consistent flow of images to come!

Mist whipped up by late after breezes assaults the cliffs to the north of Salmon Beach, in the D’entrecasteaux National Park.

One of the most striking features of Salmon Beach were the large cliffs right up the water’s edge.  The feeling of being somewhat hemmed in was actually quite comforting, as though one was sheltered from the world; just you and a beach.