Monday, December 26, 2005
Sunday, December 18, 2005
"how did it get so late so soon?
its night before it's afternoon.
december is here before it's june.
my goodness how the time has flewn.
how did it get so late so soon?"
- dr. seuss (american writer and cartoonist, 1904-1991)
in a month or so, tender snowdrops will nudge their greenness through the frost, and the neverending cycle of growth - flourishing, fading - will begin again.
in the meantime, though, there is mimicry.
and there are memories.
Monday, December 12, 2005
come summer, i leave the north sea beaches - one of which is just a quarter of an hour away - to the vacationing throngs. crowds, sand, and very loud transistor radios: it's a combination i avoid with total conviction.
when the season is low, though, and the tide, and the sun, too, and when the view stretches spacious into another province, i can be tempted into a late afternoon stroll along the coast.
this is the camera i pocket when i anticipate vistas. i'm its second owner - we're still getting aquainted - but sometimes it seems to perceive the wide world exactly as i do.
(a larger version is here.)