They would find his body beneath a black willow tree where he collapsed, but I carried his soul, and together we found freedom.
For I could not help myself; with a single action, I gunned down my brother as he interlaced fingers with my lover.
The pigeons now wander lonely streets, feral and abandoned; a nuisance and a pest.
Recently got a chance to test out a Nikon P950 for some wildlife photography. Lots of ducks, robins and even a Muskrat
I see it often fills the gaps in couples meant to flounder; distance is a bandaid, the crutch, that keeps them stronger.
I glance over at Christa McAuliffe and she smiles back at me; 4, 3, 2, 1.
In April I went for a 3 day, 2 night car camping trip in Kananaskis region of Alberta Canada. Day 1&2 had beautiful spring weather and great hiking but on the morning of the third day I woke up to heavy snow.
Not even an hour before these photos were taken the ground was bare. The snow was piling up quickly.
The huge snowflakes and tall lodgepole pine combo was breathtaking and I could’ve stayed there all day, but it was leaving day and what followed was an incredibly harrowing drive on icy, snow blown, mountains roads. Semi truck crashes made me redirect hours out of my route. I passed many, many vehicles which had either crashed or slid off the road.
If you are spring car camping, come prepared. I had warm winter clothing, shovel, extra food and water. And most importantly, I had solid tires built for ice and experience driving in snowy mountain conditions.
Selfishly, I lay with her all night, softly stroking her dark chestnut mane; she oft cried out in pain.
Tears fell like prairie rain in June.
For I knew, the relief from her shattered leg
would be delivered by my Winchester come sun-up.
Run wild across that endless prairie, and someday, may we ride together again.
Come high noon I walked the trail alone.
Having just freed my chestnut roan.
Tears fell like prairie rain in June, for I knew the only relief from her shattered leg, would be a shot from my Winchester come sun-up.
The sleeping couple stir within their small yellow tent; I pause, motionless, salivating.
In the third year, I built two oak coffins, one grown and one sapling; two oak crosses now sit on the prairie, and they call out to me when the sun sets, begging me not to build myself a third.
Which is your favourite?
All pics taken by me.