For this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, the topic chosen by Amy is narrow. Water creates its own path through the narrowest of spaces, eventually eroding cracks and making them channels. Below are images of California’s Stanislaus River from a narrow rapid to the narrowest of passages. Below, a narrow section of waterfall cuts through Oregon’s …
This week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge from Ann-Christine is “Future.” Ann-Christine writes, “The future is the period of time that will come after the present, or the things that will happen then. Maybe a second away, a week, a year, a decade.” I’m playing very fast and loose with this week’s theme. It’s said that a …
I’m ending the year with my very first photo challenge entry, Patti’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge #77, Favorite Photos of 2019. There’s not much rhyme or reason to my selections. As I scroll through a year of photos I’m not looking for anything in particular; just that brief recognition that something in the image strikes me. …
It’s the thirtieth day of November. We’re on the back side of autumn and moving headlong into winter. I could just as easily have phrased it as being on the home stretch but that assumes something pleasant at the end, a finish line, a goal. Autumn doesn’t captivate me like it does others. I find …
When you enter the gates of the San Francisco Botanical Garden you exit the urban turbulence of the city. It’s acres of quiet paths, manicured lawns and gardens with over 9000 different plants from around the world. It’s Eden in the city; Eden that is without a naked couple discussing the pros and cons of …
In April of 1869 a fire broke out at the 800 foot level of the Yellow Jacket Mine killing at least 35 miners
The American West had a mind to be heartless; a place, a time and a life that didn’t discriminate when it came to the taking of life.
In life they lived hard and in death they repose in the hard land.
A lucky miner won what was apparently the sum of a saloon keeper’s worldly possessions. As a result the saloon keeper reportedly opted for the next world.
Once you step through the gates of the cemetery you enter a different world. It’s a stark place populated with monuments colored in doleful shades of gray, many cracked, broken and in varying stages of disrepair.
The Life in My Years 